Remnants of the Past
by KentuckyWallflower
Summary: Stiles remained in town and soon took over his dads job as sheriff after he retired, continuing an on and off again relationship with Malia that he is about ready to call off for good. But when mysterious murders begin happening in town and Lydia returns after a series of nightmares centered around Stiles screaming, disaster is sure to follow. *Takes place 8 years after graduation*
1. A Prologue

Lydia Martin was forced awake for the third time that night due to a nightmare. And for the third time that night she couldn't remember what the nightmare had been. She woke up for the third time remembering only one thing from her restless dreams. The sound of Stiles' screams. They were blood curdling screams that held so much furosity they could almost rival her own. Sitting up in her bed the ginger haired girl closed her green eyes taking several deep breaths to calm herself so that she could think rationally.

"Why would I be hearing Stiles screaming?" She wondered out loud. "I haven't talked to him in nearly eight years."

This was true. Shortly after high school graduation as the Valedictorian Lydia chose to attend Harvard University where she had been accepted nearly tuition free due to several scholarships thanks to her academic performance and IQ of 170. She graduated as the schools Valedictorian yet again with a PhD and Bachelor's in Neuroscience and an Associates degree in Forensic Science and psychology. She then took a job at _New York University Langone Medical Center_ as a Neurosurgeon Physician Assistant. Her parents, with all of their disagreements they've had through the years, could agree on one thing—they were both incredibly proud of their daughter.

She hadn't spoken to any of her old friends since her spring semester her first year of college; a fact that Lydia was not proud of. But if she was being honest, the real reason she didn't keep in contact with any of them was out of fear. There had been no super natural disasters of any kind since graduation, a fact which she was thankful for. She feared that if she were to reach out to any of them again something terrible might happen. Not that she would be telling any of them that at the 20 year reunion. If anybody were to ask her she would simply tell them that her career kept her busy, which wasn't a complete lie. She had work every single day, a full 12 hour shift.

But Lydia was a banshee. As much as she wanted to admit to leaving that life behind her when she left Beacon Hills, she knew it was a part of her that would never really leave. Lydia also knew that these dreams could not be a coincidence. She predicted death after all, and after not having any contact with her high school friends in nearly eight years why would she be hearing Stiles screaming if it didn't mean something important? Without giving it another moments thought the red headed girl threw the covers off of her and stepped down onto the floor before rushing to her closet to pack. Lydia Martin had made up her mind. She was going back to Beacon Hills.


	2. The First Body

The phone rang three times before the familiar false chipper voice of the secretary answered.

"Hello! _Langone Medical Center._ This is the Neurology department, how can I help you today?"

"Hey Jill, Its Lydia Martin. Listen I—"

"Lydia, hi. Is everything alright?" Jill interrupted, "Are you sick? It's not like you to call in sick. What's wrong? It must be bad."

The redhead couldn't help the slight role of her eyes as she walked through the gates at the airport to board her flight. Jill was one of Lydia's closest friends. They had met Lydia's first day of work and instantly hit it off, in part because Jill the closest to Lydia's age in the neurology department—aside from a few nurses and lab techs. Jill was an excessive worrier and had a history of panicking even before she was given reason to. This was another one to add to the history books, at least she hoped it was.

"I'm okay Jill, really." She soothed her worried friend on the other line, "I had a last minute emergency come up back home that I have to take care of."

"Oh." The voice sounded relieved, "So you are okay then?"

"Yeah I'll be fine, but I am going to need to take some time off. Can you let Dr. Waltzinger for me?" Lydia asked as she climbed the stairs of the plane and made her way to her seat.

"Absolutely. When should I tell him you'll be back?" Her chipper voice was back, but it was genuine now.

"Um... I'm not really sure yet." She answered loading her carry-on bags into the overhead compartment, "Just let him know that I'll get back to him as soon as I know okay?"

"Will do! See yah Lyds."

"Bye Jill." The ginger haired girl gave a soft laugh as she took her seat and put her phone in airplane mode.

Leaning her soft chair back and letting her eyes fall shut she soon fell asleep shortly after the plane took off. Her sleep, however, was cut short by the same nightmares that plagued her the night before. She awoke with a jolt as the sound of Stiles' screams for help echoed inside of her mind. Waving the stewardess over she ordered herself a large cup of coffee refocusing her attention on the movie playing on the screen above her head. It was _The Notebook._ That movie would always be Lydia's favorite. The flight attendant returned with her coffee within a few minutes and she curled herself up in the chair to watch the movie preparing for the long night ahead. She would not be getting any sleep on this flight.

...

"Malia, you know that's not what I meant." Stiles gave a heavy sigh. He was having yet another argument with his girlfriend.

"Do I Stiles? Because it was pretty heavily implied what you meant by that." Malia shot back at him.

"It was not a dig at your income!" The young sheriff argued, "All I meant was that ordering _two different meals for yourself_ is a lot of money, regardless of income."

"So what you're saying is that you admit I don't make as much money as you? Because I did offer to pay for my own meal. You're the one who insisted on picking up the check." she laughed in her frustration before continuing.

"It's not my fault that I didn't get into college. I didn't have the education you had. I was left alone running around in the woods as a coyote for nine and a half years. Maybe, things would be better off if I'd stayed that way, come to think of it."

"Malia you don't mean that." Stiles offered, his voice noticeably softening.

"Stiles, if I didn't mean it then I wouldn't have said it." The girl with the short milk chocolate brown hair offered back.

They were planning to talk and eat lunch together before Stiles had to go back to the police station. Though it was unspoken, they both had been hoping to be able to spend time together like they use to without the date ending in a fight. So much for that hope.

Stiles and Malia had continued their relationship after graduation, and though they were still together, things had been pretty rocky. Stiles was beginning to think that their relationship was only capable of working when there was a supernatural monster on the loose. Ever since the supernatural world had settled down shortly after graduation the couple had been in a long term on again off again relationship. And Stiles, personally, was getting damn tired of it.

 _Ding! Ding!_

"Go on." Malia huffed out an annoyed sigh at the sound of her boyfriends phone, "The badge comes first, I get it." At his hesitation she repeated, "Go on. Go! We'll talk about this later tonight."

"Thank you." Stiles placed a fast but gentle kiss on Malia's cheek as he set the money for the meal on the table before heading to his patrol car leaving a despondent Malina left sitting alone at the table.

…...

Stiles damn near floored the patrol car all the way to the address that his deputy gave him, lights flashing the whole way. This was a suspected homicide case, and that meant that time was important. He was met by his deputy, a man named Mark Larson, who lead him into the old abandoned warehouse where the body was found.

"Two amature photographers were sneaky around in the building taking pictures for a class." he briefed Stiles as they walked, continuing his explanation.

"They saw his foot sticking out from under an old desk. Said they thought he was hobo taking a nap. But when they grabbed his ankle to wake him up they noticed his foot was bent in an odd way, and that's how they realized the guy was dead."

When they reached the crime scene the desk had been rolled away by the coroner, who suspected a homicide upon examining the body and therefore wanted the sheriff to see the body as it was before moving it. The first thing Stiles noticed as he approached was the face, or more accurately, the fact that there was no face. Who or whatever had attacked this man had completely removed his face so that all that shown was the muscle and tissue underneath.

"Holy shit." He muttered as he cupped a hand over his nose to block out some of the smell. "They really didn't leave much for us did they?"

"Not at all Sheriff. Not at all." The deputy replied, barely holding back the gag at the sight of the body.

"Alright deputy, How about you get some pictures and head out before you lose your lunch, hu?" Stiles said giving his deputy a pat on his shoulder while suppressing a cough.

 _What a time for Parrish to have transferred._

 **A/N: I'll try to post an update every week, but I make no promises with college.**


	3. Settling In

Stiles opened the front door to the apartment he and Malia shared with a heavy sigh, dropping his keys into the small change bowel that rested on the end table by the door. It was obvious that Malia had tried fixing dinner that night the second he reached the doorway. Though Malia had mastered other common housekeeping skills—such as dishes and laundry—cooking however, had not been one of them. There were a few simple things that she could make like Mac and Cheese or plain spaghetti noodles, but anything more complicated than that would typically result in burnt food, and that was smell hung heavily in the air as Stiles entered his home that night.

"Hey. Long day?" Malia asked as she looked up from the TV at the sound of the front door clicking shut. She had seemingly calmed down since their earlier argument.

"You have no idea." He responded, his hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose—a gesture not unlike his father's when he had been the sheriff.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asked with concern as he took a seat beside her on the couch and leaned his head back to rest on the back of it.

"Do you remember that call I got earlier today at lunch?" At her nodd he continued. "Yea, well a couple of college kids taking photos found a dead body in an old warehouse. The coroner suspects a possible homicide."

"Oh, my God, that's terrible." Malia commented leaning forward, "When will they know for sure if it's a murder or not?"

"Well, with any luck we'll have an answer sometime tomorrow after the coroner has time to take a closer look at the body." Stiles said.

Malia looked down at her hands which were resting in her lap, a fearful expression crossing her face. "Stiles, do you think that there's any chance that it could be, you know? Something supernatural?"

"I honestly don't know Malia." He sighed, "But I've never seen anything like it."

"And that's including you being possessed by the nogitsune? You didn't forget about that did you?" She laughed lightly hoping he would see she was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke, not blaming him for anything. She was grateful that he understood her attempt.

"Including that too, yea." He replied with a slight lopsided smile, "Hey, I smell that you attempted to make dinner tonight."

"Oh, well, yea." After a pause she continued, "It was suppose to be fried chicken and a salad. The salad came out okay, but the chicken? Mmm not so much." She made a face as she said the last part that could only be described as "squished."

"Well, I'm just proud of that you tried to cook." Stiles grinned.

"Thanks." His girlfriend responded with a laugh. "And don't worry, I order Chinese takeout. Your's is in the fridge."

"Malia, you're awesome!" Stiles gave her a large smile, cupping her round face in his hands and kissing her.

After breaking away he jumped up from the couch announcing, "You're awesome because I'm starving and Chinese is gonna be fantastic." before rushing into the kitchen to get the takeout and warm it up in the microwave, Malia laughing at his enthusiasm for food. That was something in their relationship that would likely never change.

Once stiles was sitting beside her again on the couch, Chinese food and chopsticks in hands, Malia leaned over to lay her head in his lap as she returned her attention to the TV, as did Stiles while he ate his dinner. People often wondered why the two had continued their relationship when they argued so much. It was because of moments like this that they continued trying to make things work. It was moments like this that made Stiles think that they _could_ make things work. And though she would never admit it, Malia felt the same.

...

The old wooden lake house was still exactly the same as she remembered it. From the heavy smell of the dark oak floors to the furniture. Her parents hadn't been to the lake house in years, and they were unable to sell it as planned due to some minor damage, so it was decided that Lydia would have the only key so she would have her own place to stay when she came back to town for visits.

Lydia flipped the light switch so that she could find her way around easier—the house wasn't pitch black, but it was dark enough that she had to squint to find her way to the table lamp. The first thing she noticed when the room was illuminated was the claw marks in the oak floor. Those had been from Liam during his first full moon, and the memory of her friends the marks brought her made her fill with regret for going so long without contacting any of them.

"I could have at least called them or sent them a Christmas card." She thought out loud as she flicked another light on. "But I'll see Stiles tomorrow. And maybe he has contact with the rest of the pack still. And maybe he can give me their new numbers."

She continued walking through the ground floor of the house—she was feeling nostalgic now—and aloud her mind to flood with the memories. Memories from when she was a little girl and she'd visit her grandmother here.

 _"Lydia! Come help me set the table!" Her mother called from the kitchen._

 _"Mommy!" The younger Lydia complained as she stomped into the kitchen, mermaid doll in hand, "I_ told you _, my name isn't Lydia! Its Ariel! Remember?"_

 _"Ariel," her mother amended to appease her little girl, "You are aware that isn't the name on your birth certificate right?"_

 _"It should be! Cause that's my name!" The girl shot back bobbing her head side to side as she said it full of attitude—a quality which she would never truly lose._

 _"Now Natalie," the girls grandmother told her daughter, "It won't hurt you to play along, she'll outgrow it eventually. Beside," She pause to nudge Lydia with her elbow as the two shared a grin, "I think it's rather adorable."_

"Adorable. So adorable that you made it the key to crack a code of dead victims at Eichen House." Lydia muttered under her breath, though still smiling at the memory.

Finally she decided that she should try to get at least some sleep. She was fearful of the dreams that might plague her yet again, but she knew she would need to be rested—or as rested as she could be—if she was going to be any help to Stiles. Slowly, after turning off the lights on the ground floor, she climbed the white carpeted wooden stairs that lead up to the bedrooms. Opening the door to the master bedroom she stepped in before shutting it softly behind her and climbed into bed. Curling up under the thick floral pattern covers she soon succumbed to her exhaustion and fell asleep.


	4. A Friendly Reunion

"What the hell do you mean he's MIA?" Stiles half shouted into his cell phone as he got in his patrol car ready to head to work the next morning. "We have a possible homicide case and our coroner decides he's not gonna show up for work?"

"Sorry Sheriff. We tried calling him but he's not answering." Deputy Larson responded in his slight southern draw.

He had just transferred over a few months ago from Texas; his country accent had faded some, but it was definitely still there—especially when he was upset. "We must have tried calling him about 10 times this morning, he won't pick up."

"Alright well," Stiles began, "Have you sent a squad car over to check on him yet?"

"No sir." Came his reply, "Would you like me to?"

"Well, it sure would be helpful. So, Yea." The young sheriff confirmed.

"Alright, I'll get right I get right on that sir." And with that the phone call ended.

The rest of his drive into work was uneventful, the radio was on a low volume, the voices of his usual morning talk show filling the squad car with background noise. Stiles had seen a lot of things since Scott had become a werewolf, but that body they found yesterday was without a doubt in his mind one of the worst. He couldn't get the image of the faceless corpse out of his mind, and as he pulled into the station he silently hoped that there would not be another one like it—though he somehow knew deep down that there would be one soon.

...

The time on Lydia's cell phone read 9:27 am. With a heavy sigh the redheaded girl reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes with her long slender fingers before lifting her arms even higher, as though reaching for the sky to stretch.

"It's almost 9:30. I might as well get up for the day." She told herself as she slowly lowered herself down from the bed.

It had been another long and restless night for her, but the three hours of sleep she had managed to get would have to do. Besides, she was going to see Stiles today for the first time in nearly eight years. That thought brought a slight smile to her face as she took a quick shower, washing her hair and body, before brushing her teeth. After blowdrying and combing her long, thick, red curls she went to pick an outfit from her suitcase. Lydia chose a loose fitting, low cut, white short sleeved shirt that slightly plumed out at the bottom just above her hips and a pair of tan cotton-like dress pants that formed nicely around her figure. She pulled a black, silk trimmed, business jacket on over her blouse before slipping her feet into a pair of black 3 inch heels.

Lastly, she put her makeup on—a nude eyeshadow, a little mascara and eyeliner, some foundation, a touch of blush, and a soft coral pink colored lip stain—and pulled her hair back into a high-and-tight ponytail before heading downstairs. After grabbing her keys to the lake house, cell phone, and wallet she before placed them in her purse. Lydia was ready to go out and find Stiles.

...

After catching a cab and paying the driver Lydia was at the police station. She knew he would be there—the last time they talked he told her he was in training to become a cop. She pushed the glass doors open and entered the building heading over to the front desk.

"Hi." She said softly, "My name is Lydia Martin, I'm looking for somebody named Stiles Stilinski? Is he here right now? We're old high school friends and I was hoping to see him while I was in town."

"Uh, yea." The man sitting at the desk said hooking his thumb over his shoulder gesturing behind him, "Yea, he should be. Check the Sheriff's office."

"Alright, thank you sir." She replied with a smile before heading towards the familiar door.

As she reached the door she casually leaned herself against the frame of it crossing her arms over her chest. "Wow. Look who made sheriff." The redhead teased with a slight grin.

...

"Wow. Look who made sheriff." Said a familiar voice from the doorway to his office.

Looking up from his paperwork Stiles saw the familiar face to match the silk-like voice that he so well knew.

"Lydia!" He exclaimed hastily standing up from his desk chair and rushing towards her, arms opened, his entire face lighting up at the sight of her. "Hey, how've you been?"

"I've been good Stiles." She laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around him returning the hug. He was still taller than her, even with her heals on, and she had to lift her head just to be able to see over it shoulder. "It's really good to see you again. How are you?"

"I'm also good. It really is good to see you." He laughed releasing her from the hug, his hands lingering on her arms as he looked straight into her beautiful green eyes. "What have you been doing all of this time?"

"Well, I have a job at the _Langone Medical Center_ in New York as a Neurosurgeon Physician Assistant, and that is pretty much my life right now." She laughed, "I'd ask what you've been up to but I think I already know. Mr. Sheriff Stilinski."

"Yea, my job title doesn't sound nearly smart as yours does. I mean, I don't even know what your job actually is, and you just told me." He responded laughing.

"Basically," Lydia laughed, "I review the diagnostic test like blood work, CT Scans, MRI's. I also do pre-surgery medical exams, and look over the patients medical history, explain treatment options and their condition. I assist the surgeon during surgery and help to close up the wounds. Then do the follow ups after the surgery like filling out the discharge paperwork, monitoring their recovery, and writing prescriptions."

"Yep. That is definitely a lot smarter than my job. There really are some things that never change I guess." The taller boy laughed.

"Hey, you are incredibly smart Stiles. It's just," she pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly to the side before continuing. "You're just smart in different ways than I am."

"Okay, yea. Sure I am Lydia." Stiles said sarcastically.

"You are." Lydia insisted, "You solved so many supernatural problems when we were back in high school way before any of us could ever figure it out. You're good at solving mysteries, that's where you're smarts are."

"Alright, alright. I'll let you win this one. " He pointed a finger at her teasingly, "So what made you decide to come back and visit after all of this time anyway?"

"Ah, well. I hate to have to do this but, " she paused looking town with a frown, she did not want to do this. She wanted to run away from the supernatural world after everything they had been through. They all did, really. "This, unfortunately, isn't a social visit."

Stiles got an odd look in his eyes at that point, the glimmer of play gone as his face grew serious while he listened to her words. "Banshee predictions?"

"I think so. I-I keep having these dreams the past couple of nights," she was beginning to move her hands as she spoke, a clear sign she was getting nervous, "and I can remember anything about the dreams. All I know is that every time I wake up I keep hearing you. You're always screaming for help and mercy."


	5. COD (Cause of Death)

"So in your opinion, Sheriff Stilinski, what do you think this is? A normal homicide, an animal attack, or something else?" Lydia asked her old friend as they drove to the hospital morgue.

As Stiles opened his mouth to answer Lydia quickly added in an afterthought, "And calling you Sheriff Stilinski. That will never not be weird." She laughed.

Stiles laughed too, "In my honest opinion, Dr. Lydia Martin, I don't have the slightest idea. My first thought when I saw the body was an animal attack but if the coroner suspects a homicide I have to consider that option.

"And with the state the body was found in," he continued, "it could be an animal attack, or it could just be a really sedistic human being. But it could also be supernatural. I really don't know."

He gave her a quick side glance as he drove down the road before adding with a laugh, "And calling you Dr. Lydia Martin. That will never not be weird."

She laughed and gave him a playful hit on his arm—okay, his arm had definitely not been that muscular the last time she saw him—as they pulled into the hospital morgue and parked the car in the sheriff's parking space. The deputy's patrol car was already parked in the spot next to them. Stiles took his keys out from the ignition and opened his door and got out.

"Wait there for a second Lydia." He said as he shut the door, Lydia opening hers as he ran around to her side.

"I thought I told you to wait." He said as he saw her door already opened, his face not unlike that of a child who had just dropped his candy in the mud.

"Stiles, I may come from the nicer part of Beacon Hills, but I'm not some pampered princess. I'm a big girl you know." She said bobbing her head side to side as she spoke.

Despite her words she took his hand anyway and allowed him to help her out of the car. Mostly she just wanted to make him stop looking at her like a sad little child. Once she was out of the car she let him shut the door behind her. He rushed to the front door of the morgue and opened that one for her as well. She stepped inside and Stiles followed letting the door fall shut behind him. The air inside of the building was noticeably colder to both of them as the walked down the hallway that lead towards the autopsy room. The pair was silent as they moved, this was a place for the dead to rest before burial and that knowledge made the both of them lose any desire to talk.

The footsteps they heard from around the coroner sounded like thunder claps in the silence, the noise startling both Stiles and Lydia when it first sounded. That was when Deputy Larson appeared in the bend of the hallway.

"Larson!" Stiles shouded flintching outwardly at the sudden appearance of his deputy. "What the hell are you doing here anyway? You scared the crap outta me!"

It wasn't like Stiles didn't know he was here, his car was parked out front, but seeing his form in the dark was an entirely different thing to see in the dark.

"Johnson wasn't at his house when I went earlier." Larson said blankly, "So I thought I'd check here one more time before heading back to the station. Hey, who's she?" He asked spotting Lydia.

"Deputy Mark Larson, Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin, Deputy Mark Larson." Stiles said hastily pointing to the person to match the name as he introduced him. Lydia and the deputy shook hands giving a quick and friendly "Hello" in greeting.

"I take it he's not here then?" Stiles asked. Deputy Larson shook his head in answer.

"Alright then, both of you, follow me." Stiles continued the walk to the autopsy room, both Lydia and the deputy following him as instructed.

...

"Okay Lydia, I need you to help me out here. Our coroner is missing and we need someone to help declare a COD so, how comfortable to you feel working with dead bodies?" Stiles asked once all three of them were inside of the autopsy room, the door shut tight.

"Wait, you want me to do what now?" Lydia asked him incredulously.

"Isn't that illegal?" Larson asked just as surprised as Lydia, "I mean, she's just a civilian. It's pretty unethical."

Stiles gave a heavy and exaggerated sigh. "She's not just a civilian, she's a doctor, our coroner is currently MIA, and we have a dead guy who is possibly a homicide victim, no COD or ID, and we need to get some answers. Which is why I'm hiring on for this case as a medical consultant and temporary medical examiner." he finished.

"Okay, I get that, but why me? There's plenty of doctors in this town that you could hire on." Lydia argued.

"I'm asking you because I trust you, okay? You're the only one I can trust on this one. I don't want this case getting out in the public until we know more and you're the only one I can trust to work this case and not share anything with anyone else." He said softly.

"Well what about Melissa?" She asked. "You trust her don't you?"

"Of course I trust Melissa, and I love her like a mother. But she's just a nurse and if this does turn out to be a homicide case anything that she finds the judge would deem to be unsubstantial, it would never hold up in a courtroom, and whoever the hell did this could end up walking. And I will not let this bastard walk. You're a doctor and at least some of what you find would hold up in court. We at least need a COD. It is your call though Lydia." He said, "What do you say?"

"I also have an Associate's Degree in both Psychology and Forensic Science. Anything I found would definitely hold up in court." Lydia stated with a heavy sigh. "Alright, where's the body. I'll take a look."

"You are seriously amazing! You know that?" Stiles laughed hugging his friend.

"If it were anybody else asking me to do this," Lydia said hugging him back, "I wouldn't even consider it. You know that, right?"

Stiles gave her a wink as he released her from the hug before heading over to the freezers that held the bodies. Locating the one labeled "John Doe" he opened it and waved his deputy over.

"Hey Larson, come help me get him on the table." The deputy joined him and helped him carefully move the body bag containing the possible homicide victim over to the metal examination table.

"I only have an Associates Degree in Forensic Science, remember, my Bachelors is in Neurology. I don't have the same background as someone who studied to be a coroner or a forensic pathologist. I don't know exactly how much information I can give you." Lydia said as she found the box of rubber gloves on the countertop and pulling a pair out to put on.

"Lydia." Stiles stated as they lay the body down, "You are the smartest person I have ever met in my life. You'll be able to find more than you think you will. I know it." He gave his friend a small smile and nodded his head.

"Thanks Stiles." She returned his smile. "I can't do a full autopsy right now, I don't have the proper clothes for that, but I can at least take a look at the surface injuries today. And if you can get me surgery scrubs by tomorrow I can do a full autopsy then."

"Alright." Stiles agreed as she reached for the zipper on the body bag.

Lydia had gotten the zipper down as far as the John Doe's neck before freezing, her breath catching in her throat at the site, her face turning pale making her green eyes stand out vividly. His face was completely gone; muscle, bone, teeth, and facial tissue was all that was left of his face. Even parts of his scalp were missing.

"Oh God." The redhead whispered as she saw the victim for the first time. "This poor man."

"Lydia," Stiles began, "If you don't want to do this you don't—"

"I'm doing this Stiles." Lydia stated with firm determination, determination flaring in her lovely green eyes, her head tilting with confidence as she spoke. "I am doing this autopsy. This mans family deserves to know what happened to him. I intend to find out."

Stiles nodded gesturing with his hand for her to continue. She zipped the bag down the rest of the way folding it over and tucking it beneath him so she could see his full body. As she leaned over to study the wounds she was glad that she had chosen to pull her hair back that morning when getting ready. Carefully she studied each wound, deep and shallow, gently prodding at a few of them. After a long period of time she was sure she had learned everything she could without the proper equipment.

"I think that's about all I can do for right now." Lydia stated, making the two men in the room jump at the break in the silence.

"Did you find anything?" Larson asked her. She nodded grimly and gestured for them both to come over with her pointer finger. The two men obliged.

"What did you find Lyds?" Stiles asked looking down at the body with a frown.

"You see these marks here?" She asked them as she pointed to some of the shallow cuts. At their nod she continued. "These marks show no signs of clotting or excessive bleeding, meaning they were done post-mortem."

At the deputies arched brow she explained father, "They occurred after he died. As if his body was drug through the woods or something. Now look at these cuts." She stated pointing to a new set of marks.

"What about them?" Larson asked in his southern draw, the mention of being drug was making him nervous, which brought out his accent even more.

"These were done prior to death." Lydia confirmed. "You can tell because there's slight evidence of clotting. The fact that the clotting is minimal makes me think that these marks were fairly recent. But these," she pointed to yet another set of gashes, "These have even more clotting. And the red rim around them might even be a sign of the start of an infection—though I can't be sure about that being an infection without running vitals."

"So what's that mean?" The deputy asked while shaking his head. Stiles, however, seemed to be piecing the information together as realization slowly began to show on his face.

"It means," Lydia said with a subtle eye role, "that these two wounds," she paused to point at the two wounds that occurred prior to death, "were inflicted on two separate times—with at least a day or two between them. And there's several other wounds that show the same thing."

The deputy continued to give Lydia a confused look, so she elaborated further.

"Animals attack or kill for one of two reasons. One reason being food, for nutrients. The second being that they feel threatened. Those two reasons boil down to one main reason—survival."

She paused before continuing. "This man however, was torchered over a period of two days at least. If you're going to kill for survival, you don't torture them over a period of several days. It's instant. No animal would be able to cause these injuries." She concluded. "This death isn't from an animal attack. It's a homicide."

"You mean to tell me," Deputy Larson began, fear clear in his voice, "That this was done by a human?"

"Oh my God." Stiles added as he reached a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"If by that you mean do I think that this was done by a person, then biologically speaking yes. I do. But morally speaking," Lydia said in a voice so soft that it was almost a whisper, "whoever did this is about as human as a monster out of a horror movie."


	6. Photographs

"Stiles?" Lydia asked as her friend drover her back to the station. "I still think this case is a homicide case but, I wouldn't rule out the supernatural just yet."

"What? You mean cause it's Beacon Hills?" Stiles laughed. She laughed too.

"Well that _is_ _definitely_ a contributing factor." She said nodding her head, "But it's more than that too. Some of the marks on his body looked oddly similar to claw marks, so either animals got a hold of him before we found him, the killer got _really_ creative, or our killer is a part of the supernatural world."

"Yeah, you know, I hate to admit it but I was sorta thinking the same thing." He sighed as he applied the brakes and stopped at a red light. "Is it wrong that I'm hoping that it is though?"

Lydia gave him a quizzical look, eyebrows arched in confusion as she stared at her friend.

"Maybe try elaborating?" She offered sarcastically.

"I mean hoping that whatever this is, is supernatural. I don't want anyone else to die—and I really hope that no one does—but ever since all of this supernatural stuff settled down mine and Malia's relationship had been a little rocky. And that's putting it lightly." He told her.

"Stiles, sweetie." She said in a gentle voice, the light turning green, "I hate to break this to you, but your relationship with Malia has been a little rocky ever since you met her." Lydia laughed as the car began speeding along the highway again.

"That's not true." Stiles argued sharing in her laughter, "Our relationship was really good when we first started dating."

"She tried to pumble you to a pulp when she saw you at Eichen House." Lydia stated flatly, her tone leaving no room for him to argue.

"Gah, yea. Okay." He took a hard right onto the street that the police station was on.

As the drove down the street Lydia looked out at the familiar landscape leading to the police station. The small brick houses that lined the highway, the three lines that they buzzed past.

"I really have missed it here." she commented absentmindedly. "Maybe I should have visited everyone sooner."

Stiles reached over putting a hand on her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "And we're glad that you're here now Lyds. Even if it's not for a social visit, we're glad you're here."

"Thanks Stiles." She said with a smile as they pulled into the station, Stiles removing his hand from her arm and placing it back on the wheel to make the bend.

...

Lydia had wasted no time in making herself comfortable in Stiles' office. Once they had entered the building he asked her to wait in his office while he met with some of his officers to brief them on what they had found out in the autopsy room. Lydia, meanwhile, had taken over Stiles chair. The minute she entered his office she kicked her heels off and flopped into the large leather chair, which spun as she landed in it. Sitting on his desk there was the stack of papers he had been working on filling out when she came in earlier that day, she noticed the papers of course, but her eye was drawn to something else.

Several framed photographs had been placed along the edge of the desk. A tall frame which contained an old family photo from before his mom had passed away sat on the left hand corner of the desk. Beside it was a photograph of him and Scott as kids—they looked to be around 9 or 10 when it was taken—each of them held a watermelon half as they grinned up at the camera. Both boys wore wet t-shirts as if they had just been in a water balloon fight. The thought of a young Scott and Stiles chasing each other around the yard with water balloons in hand made the redhead grin.

On the right of the desk sat two additional photos. The first, which was closer to the center, was a group photo of the pack; it was one that had been taken before Allison was killed. They were all at the bowling alley together, the guys standing in back and the girls sitting in the chairs in their lane. Scott had his hands up in a mock growl, Stiles standing beside him, his face curled up as though he had just smelled something terrible. Isaac stood next to Scott, just behind Allison. One eyebrow raised as he pointed down at her. Both of the girls were laughing; Allison had leaned to the side using Lydia as a brace for support. The younger version of Lydia had tossed her head back against the headrest of the seat. They had been laughing at the boys' faces, she remembered.

Lydia let herself linger on that photo a while longer, slowly she reached up to trace a finger over her best friends image—her sister.

"I miss you Allison." She whispered to the photo before moving on to look at the next one.

The last photo in the collection was of their graduation. Scott and Stiles still stood next to each other. Malia had jumped up onto Stiles back, her chin resting on the top of his head, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on her calves to hold her up. She had a bright smile on her face. Stiles was laughing at the unexpected piggy back. Beside Scott stood Kira, their arms around each other as they smiled for the camera. The two had broken up shortly after that picture was taken, about a month later if she remembered correctly.

Lydia stood in front of them, dead center, her arms draped over the shoulders of the two boys on either side of her. Liam and Mason had gone to see them graduate that day. Lydia hadn't seen them much since that day. All three of them were smiling wide at the camera as Melissa McCall took the photo. The graduates all wore their caps and gowns—they were red—both of the younger boys wore cackie pants and a nice Polo shirt for the occasion.

Lydia wore a sad smile on her face as she looked between the last two pictures. Lydia had been scared to contact her friends after she left Beacon Hills, but looking at these photos she realized it wasn't for fear of the supernatural. It was for fear of losing another friend to the supernatural world. She had already lost Allison, she couldn't bare to lose anyone else. That was the real reason that she distanced herself from them after graduation. She felt that if she stayed distant it wouldn't hurt as much if any of them were to pass on. She had never let herself admit that before, and admitting it was something she had needed.

"Yo, Lydia." Stiles said as he entered his office causing her to jump. She looked up at him, turning her attention away from the photos on his desk.

"You certainly made yourself at home in here didn't you?" He laughed at seeing her in his chair.

She gave a soft laugh too. "Yes, I certainly did. So what's next?"

"How about some lunch?"


	7. Half Truths and Small Talk

Stiles and Lydia chose to go to Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch. After the two took their seats and placed their drink orders Lydia decided to ask about the pack. "Have you kept in contact with anyone from the pack?"

"Uh, well, Malia and I are still a thing." He paused to frown, "Well, sort of. And Scott comes and visits a lot!" He grinned at that. "But other than that, not really, no. Why?"

"Just wondering." She said looking down at her menu, careful not to look at Stiles. She knew he could always read her expression and Lydia didn't feel like explaining to him why she was asking, which she was sure would lead to the question of why she hadn't visited in almost eight years. She did not want to answer that question.

"Lydia?" Stiles said, eyebrow raised, "You don't actually think that line is gonna work with me do you? Okay, this is me you're talking to here."

"I just—" She sighed heavily and reached back to pull her ponytail tighter then lowered her hands back to the table again.

"It's just that I haven't seen anybody since spring semester my freshman year of college, and being back here in Beacon Hills and seeing you again is making me miss everybody." She tilted her head to the side before adding, "I was hoping you might be able to give me their numbers so I could get in touch with them again."

"I have Scott's number if you want it." Stiles laughed. "And as for Malia, why don't you come back to our apartment for dinner tonight. I'm sure she'd love to see you again too."

"That would be great!" Lydia laughed with him, "Both of those would be great."

"Well okay then." He laughed pulling out his phone and searching for Scott's number as the waitress arrived with their drink order.

"Alright, I've got a Coke for the lady." The waitress said placing the drink in front of Lydia, "And a Root Beer for the sheriff." After placing said beverage in front of Stiles she took their food order and walked off.

Stiles slid his phone across the table with Scott's number showing on the screen. Lydia pulled out her cell phone and added Scott's number as Stiles, rather comically, leaned over the table to take a drink from his Root Beer without ever using his hands. Lydia laughed at his method of getting a drink while sliding his phone back to him across the table.

"So, did Scott ever become a Veterinarian like he wanted to?" Lydia asked casually taking a sip of her Coke.

Stiles noted how much more graceful Lydia looked doing that than he had just moments ago before answering. "Yeah. Yeah, he's working at a Vet clinic in the next county. He seems like he really likes it over there, so I'm happy for him."

"Me too." Lydia said smiling, "He deserves to be happy after everything he's been through."

She decided to send a quick text to Scott while they waited for their food, just to say hi to her old friend. _"Hey Scott, this is Lydia Martin. I stole your cell number from Stiles, hope you don't mind."_

"What about Malia?" She asked Stiles, "What's she doing now?"

"Malia is working at a 50's themed diner downtown and then taking some online classes at night to get a degree." He answered.

"That's good. What is she trying to get a degree in?" Lydia asked, genuinely interested.

"She's looking to get a business degree, and from there she thinking about becoming a real estate agent." He said, "I think she'd be pretty good at that too."

"Well," Lydia said with a laugh, "I'm not sure why anybody would be wanting to move to Beacon Hills, but I definitely think she's be good at convincing people to buy a house."

Lydia heard her phone buzzing on the table and reached to check it. Scott had texted her back.

 _"Don't mind at all. :) Don't be a stranger Lyds."_

 _"Don't worry."_ She typed back, _"I won't be."_

Stiles smiled, "That Scott?"

"Yup." She replied hitting the send button before looking back up at him with a smile.

The waitress returned at that point with their food. "Boneless buffalo wings with honey BBQ sauce and a side of potato wedges for the sheriff." She set his lunch in front of him.

"And an order of boneless buffalo wing with the desert heat sauce and a side of potato wedges for the lovely lady." She gave Lydia a smile as she handed her the plate.

She asked if they needed a refill and when the pair politely thanked her and declined she told them to enjoy their meal and walked away.

"You are such a wimp." Lydia said laughing.

"What do you mean?" He asked her with a slight frown.

"What's a matter Stiles?" She teased giving him a lopsided grin, "Can't take the heat?"

Realizing that she was talking about his choice of spice level for his food he joined in her laughter, "On the contrary, I eat strait peppers for breakfast."

"Yea, strait _bell peppers_ maybe." She teased back with a laugh.

...

After lunch Stiles and Lydia headed back to the police station where he had her fill out the proper paperwork to be hired on as a medical consultant and examiner for the case—as far as the court would know Lydia didn't examine the body until after the paperwork was filed. Deputy Larson agreed to that little white lie as long as she help them to get the "sick bastard locked until he rots."

Once the paperwork was all filled out—signed by Lydia, Stiles, and the deputy—the three all stood in the sheriff's office discussing the next action to take in the case.

"We can't leave the town blind Larson, okay?" Stiles insisted. "We gotta let them know about this body, otherwise we could end up with a lot more bodies on our hands."

"But wouldn't that just induce a mass panic?" Deputy Larson argued. "And whenever there's any kind of mass panic in homicide cases, things end badly, alright? Haven't you ever seen a horror film sir?"

Lydia snorted at that comment. "Oh, sorry. You were being serious?"

Both the deputy and Stiles rolled their eyes at Lydia's comment before he answer Larson's question in a flat and completely serious tone. "I am the king of horror movie. I'm like the Randy Meeks of Beacon Hills."

Lydia couldn't hide the small smile that his comment brought to her face. The seriousness he had used when making the comparison had made his comment even more amusing to her—although knowing Stiles it was not intended to be funny at all. He really had meant it.

"Our lives are sort of a horror movie." She added pursuing her full coral pink lips before adding, "Just check the crime reports from when Stiles and I were in high school. There was a new body practically every week."

"Sometimes more if we were lucky that week." Stiles contributed helpfully, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Okay, whatever." Larson said with a laugh, his lips curving into a lopsided grin. "But we still can't induce mass panic."

"And we still can't let the town live in the dark, not when there's a murder on the lose and we hardly know anything." Stiles urged, "They need to take precautions."

"So, what do we do sheriff?" His deputy asked.

"I have an idea." Lydia offered. The offer was more of a statement really.

"What have you got?" Larson asked.

"What've ya got Lyds?" Stiles said at the same time as his deputy.

Lydia rolled her eyes at their unpracticed syncopation as she turned her attention to Stiles. "Do you remember back in high school, when we wanted to go out and do something we knew our parents would disapprove of? Like say... go to a nightclub?"

"Why Sheriff Stilinski, you were a naughty boy back in the day." Deputy Larson teased his boss.

"Oh like you never did anything illegal as a teenager?" He shot back with a laugh before returning his attention to Lydia. "Yea, I remember. What are you getting at Lyds?"

"What's something you might've told your dad to convince him to let you out of the house?" She asked him.

"I dunno, something along the lines of "Hey dad, I'm gonna go meet up with some friends. We're gonna get a bite to eat and hang out for a while."' he answer, hit eyebrows knit together in confusion. Larson's face mimicked his bosses.

"Uh hu. And when we all got to the club, what was the first thing we would always do?" She continued.

"We'd go to the bar and order some food to eat." He finished.

"Exactly!" Lydia beamed, "You didn't technically lie to your dad, you just... didn't exactly tell him the whole truth either. We do the same thing with the town. We give them a half truth."

"Lydia!" Stiles half yelled in excitement, bouncing up and down like a small child, "You are a genius! A beautiful, fashion and makeup loving genius!"

He grabbed her into a tight bear hug, lifting up and spinning her around. She couldn't help but let out a full laugh as she returned the hug.

"So, what?" Larson asked, "We same something like, "A couple of college kids found a dead body in an old abandoned warehouse while taking photo for a class. Due to the mysterious circumstances and lack of information we urge the public to take some basic safety precautions until we know more?"'

"Yes." Lydia said as Stiles set her back down, "Accept I was say 'encourage' instead of 'urge.' Psychologically speaking, the word encourage has more of a positive connotation to it and is less likely to induce panic."

"The word urge on the other hand," she continued, "is typically viewed as being associated with a state of emergency and tends to be more scary for people. It could cause panic."

"And make sure you add that people shouldn't go out after dark, and if they have to for some reason they should bring at least one other person with them. Bringing two people would be even better." Stiles added.

"Got it." Larson stated reaching for a pen and a piece of paper to start writing the speech down.

...

A few hours later Lydia and Stiles were getting ready to leave the station and head back to his place for dinner. Stiles was grabbing his keys from the desk drawer when Lydia asked if he was sure Malia wouldn't mind her dropping in unannounced.

"Malia would love to see you again Lyds." He assured her as his phone chimed. "Speaking of Malia... " _Stiles, I accidentally burned the lasagna. Would you mind grabbing a pizza on your way home?"'_ he read aloud with a laugh.

Lydia smiled, "Pizza sounds good to me."

"We've been so nutritious today haven't we?" He said with a laugh as he typed his response.

 _"Yup! :) And by the way, we're gonna have some company for dinner tonight."_

"Oh, absolutely." The redhead commented sarcastically as his phoned chimed again with Malia's response of _"Really? Who?"_

 _"It's a surprise. :) You'll see."_ He typed before leading Lydia out to the car.

…...

Lydia sat in the passenger seat of Stiles patrol car, a large pepperoni pizza resting in her lap. The warmth of the freshly baked pizza seeped through the box making her legs feel very warm as they drove through the town back to Stiles and Malia's apartment.

"This pizza is hot." Lydia stated as Stiles made a left turn.

"Hot pizza is the best kind of pizza." He replied.

"Yea," Lydia said with a soft laugh, "Unless you're the one holding it in your lap during the car ride home."

"Well," Stiles began with a slight chuckle, "luckily you won't have to suffer through the heat much longer cause that's our apartment building's right there."

Looking out through the windshield she saw several four story white buildings at the end up the street. "Which one?" She asked him.

"The one right in front." He answered as he neared the complex.

Stiles reached the end of the street and turned into the parking lot, finding an empty place he pulled in and cut the engine. "I'll come around and grab the pizza so you can get out."

"Sounds like a plan." She said as he shut the door and ran around the car.

After taking the pizza for her as promised he unlocked the main door and led her up the two flights of stairs to his floor. "Okay, when we get there, wait out here in the hall until I tell you to come in alright? I wanna surprise her." Stiles whispered.

"Got it." Lydia whispered back with a small grin. She was genuinely excited to see Malia again.

As they got to the front door Stiles turned the key and let himself in making sure to leave the door open a crack.

"Hey beautiful." He said announcing his presence. "I got pepperoni, you good with that?"

"Hey! Yea, pepperoni sounds great." Malia said walking over to her boyfriend. When she reached him she leaned in placing a gentle kiss on his lips before taking the pizza and heading into the small dining area near the kitchen.

"So when is our dinner guest getting here?" She asked setting the box down on the table.

"Well," Stiles said opening the door and gesturing for Lydia to come in, "She's already here."

Lydia entered the apartment and beamed seeing her old friend. "Hey stranger!" She said with a wide grin.

"Oh my God! Lydia! Hi!" Malia said cheerfully. They both walked towards each other at a brisk pace, their arms wide open as they greeted each other with a hug.

"Hey! How are you?" Lydia said with a joyous laugh as they reached each other.

"Good! Good, I'm good." Malia said, still in disbelief that her high school friend was standing in her living room. "What about you? What have you been doing these past eight years?" The girls finally let go of each other.

"Oh, you know." Lydia said casually. "Six years of school, then I got a job. Been working as a Neurosurgeon Physician Assistance at the Langone Medical Hospital in New York. Same old, same old. And it's only been 7 years and 8 months by the way, but close enough."

Malia laughed and shook her head, "Same old Lydia alright."

"Alright!" Stiles announced, "I don't know about you two ladies, but I'm starving."

"You're always starving." The ladies said in unison. Realizing that fact, they both laughed looking at each other.

"But what I was gonna say next is that we should all sit down and eat while the pizza is still hot. We can all catch up over dinner."

"Pizza is always better when it's hot." Lydia said looking at Malia with a side glance, a small grin on her face as she remembered Stile saying the same thing in the car.

"As I've always said." He chimed in, as if reading her thoughts.

"Couldn't agree more." Malia added as the three walked over to take a seat at the dining table.

…...

The three friends spent the rest of the evening catching up. Malia spent a lot of the time talking to Lydia about the business degree that she was trying to receive, what her classes were like, and what her long term goals were after she obtained the degree.

"My long term, ideally, would be to actually run the real estate business someday. I'll start out as an agent and sell houses, but I'd like to be able to do more than that one day, you know?" She told her friend as the trio finished off the last few slices of pizza.

Stiles hadn't even known that Malia wanted to aim for management, and they had been together—off and on again—for almost eight year. One more reason why Stiles was starting to doubt that they should keep trying to make things work.

"I do know. I think it would be a really great career for you to get involved in too." Lydia encouraged. "It might even help you improve on your people skills."

Lydia also offered to help her with some of the math if she needed any and gave her some basic studying tips to help her out. The redhead filled her friends in on her job and her friends in New York. She told them about the condo she lived in and how they didn't allow dogs.

"I wanted to get a new dog after Prada passed away." She said sadly, "I hoped it would help me get over losing her. You know that dog was my baby. But the condo has a strict no pets policy. We're only aloud to have fish."

Lydia rolled her eyes at that, "Why would I want a fish as a pet?" Both Stiles and Malia laughed.

"A fish doesn't even compare to having a dog." Stiles agreed with her.

Stiles talked about how his dad had chosen to retire early about two years after Stiles became a deputy. "He very highly recommended that I take his place as sheriff after he left. Parrish agreed I would be the best man for the job and the next thing I knew my dad was handing me his badge."

"He told us that being a sheriff in a town overrun by the supernatural was making him go gray at an early age." Malia shared with a laugh, "Said he wanted to leave on a high note when no mythical creatures were trying to kill anyone."

After spending several hours catching up Lydia decided that it would be a good idea to go home and attempt to get some rest before doing the rest of the autopsy tomorrow. Stiles insisted on taking her home. "Lydia, I'm not letting you take a cab at 11:00 pm. That's how people end up dead in this town."

Nobody in Beacon Hills could argue that logic, so she conceded. Giving Malia a hug goodbye she offered to come back tomorrow and help her cook dinner. "I heard that you burnt the Lasagna." She told her as an explanation for the offer. Malia agreed that some help in the kitchen was a good idea and after a few more minutes of conversation as they walked to the door Stiles and Lydia were back in the sheriff's car once again, this time on the way to the lake house so Lydia could try to get some sleep before tomorrow.

...

 **A/N: RR please!? Sorry for not posting sooner guys. I swear, college is gonna be the death of me. Also, just a little side note for those of you who aren't familiar with horror movies; Randy Meeks was a character in the original Scream movies (I.E: the original Noah Foster from MTV's Scream TV series.) I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Thanks so much for reading! :-) And now, *SPOILERS AHEAD!* If you have not seen last week's Teen Wolf yet, *STOP READING NOW!***

 **Okay, so we know who The Beast is now and I have to fangirl for a second okay? Oh my gosh! Mason, no! They have to save him. I like him too much. Any thoughts from you guys?**


	8. The Banshee Experience

_Lydia was crawling somewhere off in the woods. She had no idea what part of the woods, but somehow, she was sure that these were the woods in Beacon Hills. It was pitch black in the sky above her, some time in the dead of night. She was freezing, she could feel the hairs standing up on her arms from the cold. Her body was drenched—perhaps from a heavy rain—and she dug her nails deep into the wet earth as she desperately tried to get away. Every part of her body screamed in agony with each movement but the intense fear drove her to keep moving forward. As she crawled she noticed that she couldn't move her left leg at all and when she glanced over her shoulder she saw the odd angle at which it was bent. It looked as though someone, or something, had grabbed her and twisted. From the knee down she couldn't feel her leg at all._

 _"That's how your mind helps you to cope with severe pain." She remembered reading in one of her psychology books. "The mind will refuse to accept any signals from the injured part of the body so as not to register pain."_

 _As far as Lydia was concerned in that moment, the numb limb was only making the situation worse. A piece of her water drenched hair fell into her eyes as she turned her attention before her. Not only was her hair wet she realized, but it was also matted with blood. Looking down she realized her entire body was covered with it as well, dried blood was caked over nearly every inch of her flesh. She had deep cuts over her torso and back as well, she could feel her skin pull farther apart as her body moved over the forest floor. She could feel the tears stinging at her eyes and her throat swell as she fought of the tears. She would not let herself cry. She had lived through worse than this before._

 _That was when she heard the growling and hissing noise coming from behind her. In an instant the was a heavy weight landing on her back pinning her to the ground. The force of the weight cause her to scream out in pain. She was rolled onto her back, and despite her desire to keep her eyes open to see her attacker, she felt her eyes squeeze tightly shut. She could feel the hot breath against her skin, she could smell the rotting flesh on its breath as this monster breathed into her face._

 _"This is it." She thought, "This is how I die."_

 _Only the voice in her mind wasn't her own this time. It was a males voice. Lydia felt the creatures claws pierce her skin, cutting deeper into her already present and sore injuries. She opened her mouth to let out a scream, the scream was foreign to her ears. She felt her breath cut short and her pounding heart go still as icy cold claws slashed deep into the exposed skin on her throat. The scream died as did everything else within her. Her body went still and her pain ceased as an eerie cold took hold of her lifeless form._

Lydia bolted straight up in her bed, a piercing, blood curdling, scream escaping from her. She desperately gripped at her chest as the scream finally died off. For a horrifying moment she couldn't breathe. She forced herself to inhale a sharp and painful breath—it was more of a gasp really. She sat there for several moments breathing—gasping—and focusing on calming down her racing heart. Finally, when her breathing returned to normal and her racing heart was gradually slowing, she spared a quick glance at the clock on her phone. The blue glow of her phone illuminated the dark room, the numbers reading 3:30 am.

Setting her phone down the redhead began to cry. She felt the hot tears roll down her face as she curled into herself—her knees bending up to rest against her breast, her arms around her legs holding them against her. She was crying, not for herself but for the man from her dream. Towards the end of her dream it became obvious that she was living out the last moments of that man's life. Whether that man was the man already lying in the morgue or a new victim she couldn't tell, but she was sure that she had just experienced his death. She could feel every muscle in her body trembling as she cried, her face buried against her legs, hiding beneath long, thick, red curls. She knew deep down inside of her that she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore that night, nor did she want to try.

...

Tea. Lydia had decided that she needed some tea. Once her sobs had slowed to silent tears and her breathing was back to normal she decided that she needed some camomile tea to help calm her nerves. Slowly easing herself out of her bed she stuck her feet into her hot pink fuzzy slippers—she may be a genius but she would always love fuzzy slippers—and shuffled her feet out of the room, down the hall, and finally down the stairs. When she reached the bottom she turned the corner and headed into the kitchen. Searching through the cabinets she found an old teapot and rinsed it out before filling it a little under halfway up with warm water.

Lydia set the pot on the stove and turned it on low as she set off to find the box containing the tea bags. She found the tea bags in the cabinet directly above the sink, beside it sat the bottle of honey. The expiration date on the back told her it was still safe to use so she set that on the table too. Next she located her grandmother's old China set which contained the tea cup she would be needing in order to drink her tea. She wiped the tears off of her face as she rinsed out the tea cup and placed it on the table besides the other items. Leaning her back against the counter she let herself slide down to sit on the floor as she waited for the water to heat up.

She couldn't get that image of her bent up leg out of her mind, or the sound of that man's scream. She actually lived through that man's death. She knew her abilities had amplified ever since her hellish stay in Eichen House, but she hadn't realized she would be experiencing another man's death first hand. She felt as though she had just invaded a personal moment, like she had witnessed something she shouldn't have. The sound of that man's scream echoed around her mind.

 _At least it isn't Stiles screaming this time._ She thought darkly.

The scream played in her mind again and again, the sound growing more and more intense.

 _Somebody needs to find out who this man was._

The man's screams grew louder in her mind, still.

 _His family needs to know._

The screams were now so loud that she felt as though the man was lying down in the same kitchen that she now sat in. She quickly threw her arms up so that her hands could cover her ears in a useless attempt to silence the noise. She knew it was futile even as she lifted her hands, but she had to try. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. She could hear his breath catch as he died, the sound of his pounding heart stop dead mid beat. His screams of agony and pure terror continued, the sound of his breath and heart stopping cold repeated between each scream until Lydia could no longer take the noise.

Another blood curdling scream pierced through the dark and silent night. The pitch of her scream was high enough to rival the teapot's whine as it signaled it was done heating the water. The bone China teacup she had set out on the tabletop just a few minute ago cracked and shattered. She had, without intending to, turned her voice into a bullet in the same way Meredith has showed her to do eight years ago. The scream died on her lips nearly as quickly as it had come. Slowly, she lowered her trembling hands as she stared blankly at the place where her teacup had been resting a moment ago. Quickly, she leapt to her feet, pulling her white cotton bathrobe tighter around herself as if it could help stop her trembling.

Finally, it dawned on her that the teapot was whistling. She spun around as more tears sprang from her eyes and switched off the stove. She then walked over to the pantry and pulled the door open; shakily she removed the dustpan from the back of it and moved back over to the table. Taking the small broom out of the dustpan, she used the tools to sweep the shattered bits of the teacup away before disregarding them in the trash bin. After returning the dustpan and broom to their place on the back of the pantry door she retrieved a new teacup.

Pouring the hot water into the cup she chose a chamomile tea bag and dropped it into the steaming liquid. After adding the honey she stirred it all together with a teaspoon, her hands still trembling. Carefully lowering her shaking body into one of the chairs at the table she cupped the warm cup of tea between her two hands, letting the warmth seep into her. Breathing in the smell of chamomile as she sipped it she focused on trying to calm down so as to avoid shattering anything else with her screams.

…...

Once she finished the entire pot of tea she felt a bit calmer, but her muscles her still trembling. In another attempt to relax her shaking body Lydia went back up the stairs and into the bathroom for a long hot shower. She set a soft and plush cotton towel on the towel rack and let her robe fall off of her shoulders.

Lydia pulled the long sleeved white shirt over her head and stepped out of her pink plaid pajama bottoms. After removing her undergarments she turned the shower on hot, when she got it to just the right temperature she stepped inside and pulled the curtain closed. Once inside the shower she let the hot water run over her, soothing her trembling frame. She washed her hair, her slender fingers running through her thick red locks as she massaged the pistachio and hibiscus scented shampoo into her scalp before rinsing it out.

After washing off her body with her honey and oatmeal scented body wash and rinsing, she cut off the water and wrapped herself in her towel before stepping out. Walking down the hall, her wet feet padding on the hardwood floor, she entered her bedroom. Reaching into her oak drawers she selected a fresh pair of undergarments and pajamas. After getting dressed she checked her phone for the new time. The blue screen now displayed the time as 5:15 am. She had to be awake in two hours. Laying down on the bed and covering up she flicked on the TV. All she could find on at this time of day was the news and a bunch of old sitcoms from the 90's. She left the TV on a rerun of _Full House_ and began watching.

…...

The next thing Lydia knew the alarm on her cell phone was going off. She jumped awake at the sound as she reached to dismiss it. The clock now read 7:00 am. Lydia must have dozed off without even knowing. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she got out of her bed to begin the day.


	9. Hold the Coffee Break

The ginger haired girl walked confidently into the sheriff's office that morning. "I've come to a conclusion about something this morning Stiles." She stated casually as she dropped her black purse onto the chair by the door and placed her hands firmly on her hips.

"And uh, what might that be Lyds?" He asked looking up from the paperwork on his desk. He lifted his eyebrows causing his forehead to crease, a slight grin already playing on his face.

"We _will be_ making a coffee stop this morning." She answered. When it came to Lydia and coffee, much like shopping, it was best not to argue.

"Oh are we now?" Stiles laughed.

"Yes." She replied simply but firmly, pursing her lips slightly in a triumphant grin.

"Well then coffee we shall be getting." He was trying his hardest not to laugh, but he soon gave up on his attempt. "Any place specific you wanna go?"

"As long as I can get a blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese and a heavily caffeinated cup of coffee, I'll be a very happy Lydia." Her head bobbed slightly as she spoke as if to prove that, clearly, she was still full of attitude. Not that Stiles wasn't already fully aware of that fact.

Again, Stiles couldn't hold back the slight laugh that followed her comment. The redhead had now join her purse in the chair, her arm propped up on the chair's arm, her head resting in the palm of her hand. Today she had chosen a pair of faded dark blue jeans, a sheer black, white polka-dotted blouse, which dipped down just below her collar bone. She wore a black tank top beneath the blouse and a white blazer with black trimming over it. On her feet she had chosen much more sensible shoes to wear this time, a pair of dark brown hiking boots that faded to black at the heels and toes, which her jeans had been neatly tucked into.

And as far as Stiles could tell, Lydia had gotten a restful night's sleep; the girl was the queen of makeup after all. She had expertly blended her foundation so that any dark circles under her eyes were completely covered. On her eyes she worse expertly done eyeliner as well as full, long, and dark lashes courtesy of mascara. Her lips were a lovely candy apple red this morning and she had a slight pink tinge to her cheeks, just enough to add a bit of natural looking color. Her long, red, thick curly hair had been braided neatly to the side, a few loose lock had fallen to frame the features of her face. All and all, Lydia looked absolutely beautiful to Stiles—as always.

Looking at Lydia now he wore a subtle grin as he was reminded of what it was he had always loved about her when they were younger. Not only was she beautiful—and she was damn beautiful if he did say so himself—but she was also ridiculously intelligent, kind, funny, and extremely confident. No wonder he had spent 10 years pinning over her.

The sound of his deputy's voice broke him out of his nostalgia though. "Sheriff Stilinski?"

"Yo." He replied. "What's up Larson?"

"Well, we uh, we got a call about another body found. Out in the woods this time but," he pause for a brief moment before continuing, "The dispatch said the caller kept repeating the same thing over and over again."

"Which was what?" Lydia piped in as he took another pause.

"The girl kept saying, 'He has no face.' Sir, that can't be a coincidence." Larson answered in his southern drawl. His accent was obvious, a clear sign that the deputy was more than a little freaked out at the moment.

"Well Lydia," Stiles said standing up and walking towards the door, "It looks like that bagel and coffee are gonna have to wait."

…...

Lydia was grateful that she had choses hiking boot that morning. The police car could only travel as far as start of the tree line before they had to get out and walk the rest of the way—about a 2 mile hike—to the crime scene. When the reached the crime scene she took one look at the body of the man lying in the dirt, at the odd way his leg was twisted, before stopping and standing dead still. Her breath caught in her throat for a brief moment as her eyes widened at the sight.

"Stiles." She said abruptly. He had traveled a few steps ahead of her and turned at the sound of her voice. He frowned in concern as he saw her. "Can I talk to you for a minute."

He nodded and guided her over out of earshot from the deputy, who was busy interviewing the jogger who had called in the body to dispatch, and the EMT's waiting for their orders to put the dead man into a body bag. "What is it Lydia?"

"That man," she began, "I-I had a dream last night—well, nightmare really. Actually I think it was more of a banshee thing." She sputtered off shaking her head as she spoke, "But anyway, the point is, that man was in my dream."

"You saw him?"` Stiles asked in disbelief.

"More or less." She answered shakily. "Stiles, I didn't _see_ him. I _was_ him. I think I lived his death. I felt everything that was happening to him. In the dream, my leg was broken just like that. I—he—he was trying to crawl away from _it_."

" _It_? As in _it_ , it? _It_ as in _it_ was definitely and _it_? Lydia, you saw _it_?" She could tell he was still in disbelief.

"You're saying the word 'it' a lot." Lydia replied hotly, feeling slightly annoy.

"Sorry." He apologized hastily.

"But yea." She said noticeably calmer.

"Yes, it was definitely an it. And no. No, I didn't see it. Our victim here," she said gesturing towards the body with her hand, "squeezed his eyes shut so I couldn't actually see it. But I remember hearing a lot of growling and hissing. And when it jumped on me it was way too heavy to be anything human."

…...

 **A/N: I know this was a super short chapter, but I wasn't sure when I'd have time to write again and I wanted to get this up for you guys when I knew I had the chance. Plus, that seems like a pretty good cliffhanger to me. :) I will be busy all day tomorrow at my cousin's baby shower, then my spring break end and I start back up with my classes again on Monday. So, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get a new chapter up for you guys again, but in hopefully it'll be soon. I'm gonna shoot to have something up by next Sunday, but no promises. In the meantime though, I really hope you guys enjoy this short little chapter. :) Read & Review! Please and Thank You! :)**


	10. A Well Deserved Coffee Break

They had stopped for coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese at a local diner on their way to the morgue. Lydia was clearly shaken up after they had left the crime scene and Stiles wanted her to calm down before beginning the autopsies. The redhead had held it together well enough while they were at the scene, dubiously taking pictures of the scene with her iPhone camera. She didn't have a professional camera at her disposal and the coroner's was somewhere in his house, and since he was MIA for the time being the cell phone would have to do. She took more pictures than needed just to be sure she didn't miss anything since she was using a low quality camera. After she was through with her pictures the deputy signaled for the EMT's to put the diseased man in a body bag and take him to the mortuary for an autopsy as Stiles led Lydia back to the police car.

The walk back seemed even more tiresome to her now. In her mind she was back in her dream reliving his death again. All she wanted to do was collapse, but she needed to keep it together for the time being. She wasn't alone yet and she didn't want anyone thinking that she was incapable of working this case. She needed to work this case. Lydia had promised herself last night after her meltdown that destroyed her teacup that she would find the monster that did this. And that was a promise she intended to keep.

"Lydia?" Stiles asked softly once the pair was back in the privacy of the sheriff's car. "You okay?"

Her hands had begun to tremble and her knee was jumping up and down in a rapid steady motion that was beyond her control. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she bit her tongue to hold back her tears. Breaking down in front of Stiles was acceptable to her. She trusted him and she knew that he would understand. He knew about her dream, her banshee prediction. He could understand why she was bothered so much by the crime scene. It wasn't the body that upset her, it was the fact that she had lived his death. She felt his fear. And Stiles would know that.

Weakly she nodded her head. She would be okay, she just needed sometime to calm down and push the memory aside. And she would catch the creature that was doing this. He nodded in understanding. "You're gonna help us catch this monster Lyds. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes." She slowly to keep from collapsing completely. She was stronger than this. She would not allow this to break her. She clenched her hands in to fist so tight that her knuckles turned white in an attempt to stop the shaking. Gently, Stiles placed his right hand over her left to calm her.

"You know you had that dream for a reason, right?" He began. "You had that dream so that you could help. Anytime you've ever had a prediction like that, it was because you were suppose to help."

"I know." She replied softly, her hands still in tight fist, her left fist resting under the warmth of his palm.

"Okay." Stiles told her. "Now, how about we go see about that coffee and bagel?"

"Stiles," she told him with a sigh, "I have to do the autopsies so we—"

"Nope." He told her abruptly and started the engine before putting the cruiser into drive.

"What do you mean, 'Nope,' Stiles? We have to stop this thing before it kills again."

"And we will Lyds." He promised. "But you can't do an autopsy when your hands are trembling like that. You need to calm down first."

"Fine." She said bitterly conceding. All she wanted to do in that moment was perform the autopsies and get a move on with stopping this monster. She was feeling rather annoyed to be slowed down, but as they drove along the barren highway that led from the Beacon Hills Preserve she began to realize that Stiles was right. She wouldn't be of any use to anyone in her current state. She needed to calm down.

 _Dammit._ She thought to herself as the past a pick up truck on the highway. _Why does he always have to be right._

…...

The pair pulled up to Grandma Leanne's Home-Cooking dinner and Stiles parked the car and cut the engine. Lydia was still trembling as she shut her car door with a soft click, so Stiles placed a gentle hand on the small of her back to steady her as he guided her through the door. They found a booth and took a seat across from each other. Lydia took a deep calming breath.

"You were right." She told him. "I hate it when you're right."

That made him laugh. "No. You just hate it when you're wrong."

She gave him a small smile. "Maybe. But especially when I'm wrong because you're the one whose right." That made him laugh even harder.

She couldn't help it. When Stiles laughed, she had to laugh too. It was that infectious. The way the corners of his eyes would crinkle, his eyebrows raised, and his laugh lines prominent and deep. He leaned back in his book as he laughed and Lydia put a hand on her forehead and shook her head side to side, her loose curls swaying and bouncing at the movement. Somehow, he was always able to improve her mood. Her fingers still trembled but she was beginning to focus more clearly on her surroundings and less on the dream.

The waitress didn't take long to take their order and bring it back to them. Before them on the table sat Lydia's Blueberry Bagel with cream cheese and a cup of hot coffee. Stiles had opted for a cheese omelet with a side of sausage and bacon, and a matching cup of coffee. Lydia was glad to help him eat the bacon.

"You could have ordered your own you know." He commented with a grin as she reached across the table and plucked a strip from his plate.

"I know." She commented returning the grin. "But what fun would that be?"

By the time they had finished their breakfast Stiles had Lydia feeling almost one-hundred percent better. Her shaking had stopped and she was seemingly much calmer. After one last cup of coffee they were back in the car and on their way to the morgue.

…...

 **A/N: Sorry for not updating this sooner guys. First I just wanted to write a short fanfic for The Mortal Instruments series (which I would totally love if you guys read and reviewed.) But then I got caught up with classes, personal stuff, and reading. My ''To-Be-Read" pile is unreal and I wanted to catch up on it. My finals are next week and then I'm for the summer, so hopefully I'll be able to write and post more chapters soon. I know this chapter is really short but I just wanted to get something up for you all quickly since it's been so long. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, please Read and Review. Thanks! :)**


	11. The Weird is the New Normal

As promised, Stiles had gotten her the scrubs she needed to do an in depth autopsy. By the time the pair had reached the morgue Deputy Larson was already there waiting for them, her scrubs In hand—right now to the little rubber booties to put on over her shoes. She felt more than a bit ridiculous wearing the awful flue scrubs outfit as she returned from the bathroom.

"These look suspiciously similar to the scrubs that hospitals give to fathers helping out with a delivery." she remarked as she re-entered the morgue, sparing a distasteful glance at her current all-gaudy-green-colored wardrobe.

"It'd be awfully hard to find a lab coat with your name on it in just 24 hours, don't you think Miss Martin?" Larson replied in his usual slight southern accent.

The redhead grinned at him as she washed her hands at the sink. "So these are baby-delivery scrubs! I knew it."

The deputy laughed as Lydia dried her hands and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. "If you plan on sticking around, I certainly hope that you have a strong stomach Deputy Larson." She informed him glancing toward the first body that was not laying on the tall medal table. They must have taken it out of the freezer while she changed. "It won't be pretty."

"Larson nearly got sick on this poor guy when we found the body." Stiles said giving a smirk in his deputies direction before returning his attention to Lydia. "He's an excellent deputy, but 'has a strong stomach' is not a quality that you're gonna be finding on his list of qualifications any time soon."

"You know, I'd like to say he's wrong." Larson replied. "But unfortunately I can't. So, uh, I'll be seeing you back at the station then."

Lydia and Stiles looked at each other, both grinning wide at how quickly the deputy excused himself and exited the mortuary. Once the two were alone she selected a scalpel and sterilized it. Carefully, the ginger haired girl placed the scalpel to the skin on the first body and began the incision line along the sternum, ending just below the collar bone before finishing the 'Y' shaped cut and beginning the autopsy.

…...

Several hours later, after completing both autopsies, the girl was utterly exhausted. Stiles had found a nice metal chair to sit on 30 minutes in to the first autopsy. In a homicide case, either the sheriff or a deputy meant to be present at all times during the autopsy to ensure there was no tampering with the evidence. Though Stiles was physically present, his sleeping form told her that he was far from consciousness. He must trusted her a great deal if he felt comfortable taking a two an a half hour nap while she worked. The slumbering sheriff awoke from his sleep about 30 minutes into the second autopsy and opted to play a rousing game of online chess for the remainder of the time spent in the room.

"So who won?" Lydia asked casually as she carefully removed her rubber gloves and disposed of them in the red bin marked "Hazardous Waste" near the door to the freezers.

"Hu?" He asked looking up from his phone screen.

"The chess game?" She asked again, speaking slowly. "Who won?"

 _He must be half asleep still,_ she thought to herself.

"Oh." He said catching on and feeling rather stupid. "I did. Obviously." He laughed.

"Figured." She said washing her hands. "You outsmarted the Nogitsune at his own game. How could you not win a simple game of online chess."

He laughed. "I'm damn near undefeated. I've got 1,752 wins on here."

"'Damn near undefeated?'" Lydia raised a slender brow, a cocky grin on her face, as she waited for his answer.

"Shit. I was hoping you wouldn't catch that part." He laughed putting his phone back in his pocket. She stood waiting in silence. "Fine. I've lost 10 games on here. But look at all of the games I've won!"

"Yes. But you still lost those 10 games." she gave him a quick wink and a smile before existing the room to change her cloths, giving him no time to come up with a counter point. She had won this game of wit.

...

Her grin had been wicked. Not wicked in the sense that it was scary, wicked in the sense that it was so beautiful there was no other work Stiles could conceive to describe Its beauty. Eight years later Lydia was just as beautiful as she had been the last time he saw her. Hell, she was just as beautiful as she was the first time he saw her back in the third grade. Lydia's beauty was timeless. He had been in love with her once, so in love that just seeing her made his heart skip a beat when they were younger. And now, when she winked her pale green eye at him and smiled like that, for just a moment he felt like he was that same kid back in third grade with the 10 year plan to win her heart. Like he was that same quirky and sarcastic teenager trying to win her heart in the skate rink by offering her a Reese's Cup.

 _"_ _Right, you know, um, sometimes there's other things you wouldn't think would be a good combination end up turning out to be, like, a perfect combination, you know, like two people together. Who nobody ever thought would be together ever_ _." He had told her then._

 _"No, I can see that."she said unwrapping the candy he had just given her._

 _"You can?" he asked in disbelief._

 _"Yeah. They're cute together." Lydia said studying their best friends, Scott and Allison, together on the ice rink._

 _"Oh, yeah," Stiles said, disappointment clear in his voice. "them."_

 _"Cute." The redhead said nibbling on the Reese's Cup._

 _"Cute." he agreed in annoyance. "Adorable."_

Wait, Malia. He was dating Malia. What was he doing, sitting here going goo-goo over Lydia? Sure, he had been in love with the redhead then, but it had been eight years. He was dating Malia, and had been for 9 years. He loved Malia now, right? He had to shake those thoughts of Lydia out of his head.

"Hope I didn't take too long." The redhead said announcing her presence as she re-entered the room.

"No." He said looking up at her. He took a deep breath to clear his mind. "No, not too long at all."

"Good. So, back to the station now?" She smiled at him again, that same beautiful smile that only she could give.

Stiles cleared his throat before speaking. "Yea, absolutely." He stood up and lead her to the door, pausing to hold it open for her as she passed by. She smelled like flowers and oatmeal.

 _Shit, stop thinking about her like that Stiles. You love Malia._

He lead her back out to the car, once again opening the door for her as she climbed into the cruiser before closing it and taking his seat on the drivers side. Turning the key Stiles started the ignition and drove back to the station.

 _..._

"Well, the official COD a blast trying to determine." Lydia said as she flopped into Stiles chair at the desk once they were back at the station and flipped open the folder containing her findings.

"Both victims had to many lacerations and gashes it was like trying to navigate a labyrinth to find the fatal wound. "

"And?" Stiles asked, unhappily taking the seat on the visitors side of the desk.

"And both bodies had their throats ripped open and their faces were MIA. And as many nerve endings and veins are in the face—most of them were completely severed—the COD could be either one. And the second victim had a punctured lung, which could also be the cause of death." She told him, pausing for a breath.

"So, we don't have any idea which of the injuries actually killed them?" Larson asked incredulously. He had followed them into the sheriff's office closing the door behind them before leaning against it.

"I never said that." The redhead pouted. "I just wanted to fully explain my findings."

"So you do know the COD then." Larson said.

Giving the deputy a look of annoyance she continued and returned her attention to Stiles. "I looked at the patterns. What possible fatal injuries appeared on both victims? The ripped throats and missing faces."

Pausing, she shifted through the files until she found the photos taken from both crime scenes. Flipping through those photos she found the close up shots of both victims faces and laid them side by side on the desk.

"Looking at the blood clotting on the throat, and lack of clotting on the face—well, what's left of it anyway—the face was removed after death." She concluded.

"So the COD was the throat being slashed open?" Stiles asked in confirmation.

"Yea, but it gets weirder than that."

"You know, I'm almost scared to ask," the deputy began, "but I'm gonna ask anyway. How's it get weirder?"

"The face wasn't ripped off." She started.

"Cut off then?" Larson asked.

The redhead shook her head. Pointing at the jawbone in each photo she asked, "See these marks here?"

Both men nodded as they moved closer to the desk and leaned over the images.

"Yea." They said in unison.

"What do they look like to you?" she asked turning the photos around.

Both men studied the marks along the jawbone in the image, but it was Stiles who saw it first.

"Are—Are those teeth marks?" He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Lydia nodded, a deep frown on her face.

"So, what?" Larson asked. "Some animal got to the guy before we did? Ate his face off?"

"No." Lydia began. "Well, yes to his face being eaten off. But it wasn't by an animal. These teeth marks are human."

"Human?" Larson said, his face paling. He looked as if he would be sick, and Lydia couldn't blame him.

"So not only do we have a killer on our hands," Stiles said, "We have a man-eating-killer running around town?"

"Looks like it." She agreed grimly.

"My God." Larson said, still looking rather ill. "Those poor men."

Stiles put a hand on his friends shoulder. "Welcome to Beacon Hills Larson. Where normal is weird, and weird is normal."


	12. Painful Memories

Lydia was woken up early the next morning to the sound of her cell phone going off. Groaning in annoyance at being woken up she rolled over to answer the phone already knowing it would be Stiles on the other end—the ringtone, _Heroes_ by David Bowie, told her that much.

"Do you have any idea what time it is Stilinski?" She said when she picked up.

"Four twenty-five in the morning." He answered. "Trust me, I don't like it anymore than you do Lydia."

"Then why, in the hell, are you waking me up at this ungodly hour?" The redhead complained rubbing the sleep from her eyes and rolling back over. Maybe if he talked long enough she could get in a few extra minutes before he noticed she had dosed back to sleep.

"Dispatch called me. Someone showed up at the station who thinks they might be able to ID one of the bodies."

"Seriously?" She asked.

 _So much for getting a few extra minutes of sleep._ Lydia thought sitting up in bed.

"Seriously." Stiles said, "I'll be over to pick you up in about an hour."

Sure enough, an hour later, Stiles was knocking on her front door. The redhead had been given just enough time to take a quick hot shower, get dressed, brush her teeth, and pull her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. Rushing down the stairs and across the room she swung the heavy oak door open and invited her friend in.

"I'll just be another minute or two." She promised him before rushing back up the stairs to her bathroom before he could even respond. After putting on some light foundation, mascara, eyeliner, soft blush, and coral pink lip stain Lydia returned to the living room –eight minutes later—to greet Stiles again.

"Ready." She said as she appeared behind him, causing him to jump before he turned to face her. "But after we get an ID," Lydia added with a laugh, "You owe me breakfast."

...

Lydia looked beautiful, she always did of course. This morning she wore a white low cut long sleeved blouse, a pair of dark grey jeans which were tucked neatly into her hiking boots that she wore the day before, and a knee length turquoise cardigan. She now wore light colored makeup, but her face was bare of any faux color when she first answered the door to let him in. Even with no makeup, she had been beautiful. Stiles beamed at her, his entire face lighting up at her presents. "I think I can manage to buy us some breakfast."

She returned his smile, it was a beautiful and brilliant smile that made his heart beat just a bit faster in his chest, as he escorted her outside to the car. He paused to open her door for her, and as he walked around to his side he mentally scolded himself for looking at her like this. It was not the first time he had needed to scold himself for thinking of Lydia that way either, the first time he had been forced to scold himself was when she had first appeared in his office three days ago. Now, it was as if he was needing to scold himself more and more every time he was with her.

It had been almost eight years and this girl still had him messed up, and if it weren't for Malia, he was pretty sure that he would be okay with it. But he was dating Malia, his old feelings for Lydia all seemed to be pouring back, and he couldn't help but feel confused about all of this. Stiles did not like being so confused, but that would have to be something he sorted through later. Right now he needed to focus all of his attention on solving these murders.

They were almost to the morgue when Lydia spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Who me? Yea, I'm fine. Why?" He asked her.

"Because we've been in the car for nearly ten minutes and you haven't said a word."

"Oh." was all Stiles could find to respond with. It wasn't like he could tell her what was going on in his head at the moment. He hadn't even realized how long he had been brooding in his own thought.

 _Brooding._ He thought to himself in annoyance, _I'm turning into Derek._

"We're not going to the station first?" the redhead asked changing the subject.

"Nah. I called Larson when I got to your place to tell him we were on our way. They're gonna meet us there."

"Well if I would have known that I'd have done my makeup in the car." She said with a slight laugh as they pulled into the parking lot. He parked in the sheriffs spot and cut the engine before getting out and running over to open Lydia's door for her as she got out. When they entered the building Deputy Larson was waiting in the lobby with a strange woman sitting nervously beside him.

She appeared to be in her late thirties to early forties. Her blond hair was long and thick, but clearly dyed, her dark roots showing at her part. She was bouncing her leg up and down and chewing nervously on her perfectly manicured nails. It was clear that this was the woman who was meant to ID one of the victims, and Stiles could tell that she was terrified of what she may find.

"Larson." the sheriff said announcing his presents. His deputy immediately stood up to meet his boss, the woman standing up as well.

"Sheriff." Larson said, "This is Renee Anderson. Ms. Anderson, this is Sheriff Stilinski."

Renee Anderson shook the sheriffs hand as he spoke. "Ms. Anderson, nice to meet you. This is Dr. Lydia Martin. She's our acting coroner."

"Dr. Martin." Renee said shaking her hand.

"Ms. Anderson. Thank you for coming in this morning." Lydia said returning the gesture.

"So what was the reason that brought you in this morning Ms. Anderson?" The sheriff asked her.

"I've um, I've been out of town for about two weeks. It was a business trip. I got back the night before last and my husband wasn't home. I figured he was working late, he's a lawyer and sometimes he stays at the office to work on some paperwork. But when he didn't come home yesterday..."

The woman paused for a breath, "I saw the news last night and when I woke up a few hours ago and he still wasn't home I panicked. I just hope I'm wrong."

"Well I think you've waited nervously long enough. Let's go find out okay?" The redhead told her, offering a small sad smile.

At Renee's nod Lydia, Stiles, and Larson all led her back to the examination room. Upon arrival the redhead went to the sink and washed her hands. After drying them she got out a pair of rubber gloves and pulled them on, heading towards the freezers lining the back wall. The blond woman followed while the sheriff and his deputy hung back by the examination tables. When Lydia reached the freezer labeled "John Doe, #1" she paused, her hand on the handle of the door.

"Renee." she said keeping her voice as calm as possible. "Before I open up this door, I just want to warn you about what you're about to see. There's some pretty substantial damage done to the body, so try and prepare yourself okay?"

Renee only nodded, barely whispering an "Okay," and then returned to biting her French tip manicured nails.

"Okay". Lydia muttered. "I'm really sorry for what you're about to see."

She pulled down on the latch and opened the door, then pulled the table out. Immediately the woman gasped at the sight, both hands moving to cover her mouth which hung open in shock. Lydia could tell that she was having to use every last bit of her self-control not to look away. After a moment of studying the body Ms. Anderson shook her head side to side. "That's not him." she said at last.

Nodding Lydia closed and locked the first freezer and moved to the second one, Renee following. The redhead once again unlocked and opened the freezer marked "John Doe #2" and pulled the table out. It took no more than a second for her to know that something about this body was familiar to the woman, even before she spoke. Her lower lip began to quiver and her hands dropped to her sides.

"That looks like my husbands shirt." Renee whispered, her voice trembling. "D—did he have a uh, a watch on? When you found him?" She asked, and Lydia couldn't help but notice how small the woman's voice had become—like a frightened child's voice.

"He did." The redhead answered. She wanted to comfort this poor woman the way she would a scared child, but right now she needed to do her job. "Would you like to see it?"

Renee nodded and Lydia moved to get the bag containing the watch from a locked cabinet door which had a name tag matching the freezer. Carefully she removed the watch from the bag and held it up for the woman to see. Tears sprang from her eyes almost immediately. "That's his. I gave it to him as an anniversary present two years ago. He never took it off."

Lydia nodded and returned the watch to the bag and locked it back up as Stiles came over. "Can you tell us your husbands name ma'am?"

"Carter. His name was Carter Anderson." She choked out through her tears as she moved to take a seat in one of the stools. "C—could I keep the watch?"

 _Carter Anderson._ Lydia thought. That was his name, the man whose death she had experienced. _Your family knows now Carter._ She silently told him as Stiles gave his answer to Renee. _Now I just have to find who did this._

"I'm afraid we're gonna have to hold it for now as evidence. But when we close the case, we'll make sure to get it back to you right away." Stiles informed her as Lydia locked up the freezer containing Carter's body, removed her gloves, and rewashed her hands.

Renee nodded in understanding and dropped her head into her now trembling hands as more tears fell. "Oh God, he's—he's really gone. I have to tell our daughter, she needs to know."

"Hey Stiles," Lydia said putting a gentle hand on the weeping woman's shoulder. "Why don't we take her back out into the lobby? Have this conversation somewhere a little more comfortable for her?"

"That might be a good idea." Larson agreed.

Stiles nodded in agreement and motioned for the group to follow him out. Lydia helped the grieving woman out of the chair and guided her out of the room with a comforting arm around her shoulder. Once the group reached the lobby the redhead helped Renee find a seat on the couch and grabbed the tissue box offering it to her. The woman gratefully accepted the box wiping away her tears, only to have more form and replace the old ones.

"Do you want me to go and get you a cup of coffee or something while we talk?" Lydia offered. She knew it was a small gesture, but she wanted to do something to help. And at the moment, that was all she could do.

"Yes please." The blond responded.

"I'll be right back." She said excusing herself and heading upstairs to get some coffee.

When Lydia returned Deputy Larson had chosen a chair to the right of the woman on the couch, and Stiles had chosen one to the left.

"Did your husband have any enemies Ms. Anderson?" Deputy Larson was asking, "Anyone who might want to hurt him?"

Renee dabbed once more at her eyes with her tissue as Lydia handed her the cup of coffee and took a seat beside her.

"Thank you." She whispered to the redhead before returning her attention back to the deputy. "My husband was a lawyer. He was always receive some kind of threat. Old clients who's case he had lost, opposing parties who didn't take their losses well."

"Did you ever report any of those threats?" Stiles asked while Larson took nots on her responses.

"No." She paused to sip on the warm coffee and held the cup tight in her hands. "We got so many of them we stopped being concerned after awhile. They were mostly empty threats."

"Mostly?" Lydia asked, picking up on that one key word.

"There was one man, Carter had won a law-suit case against him. He felt he was deserving to the $40,000 he had tried to get. He sent us a email once, said he'd seen our daughter getting on the school bus. Even described her outfit that day. He told us he wanted his money or he'd hurt her."

"My husband drove by her school, saw his car parked outside. We did were able to get a restraining order, he never bothered us after that." She took another sip of the coffee and dabbed at her eyes again.

"What was the mans name?" Larson asked.

"Steven Bucksmith, I believe. I still have the email on my laptop if you need it." She offered.

"If you could print that out and bring it to the station sometime today, that would be helpful, yes." The deputy answered. "Did you keep any of the other letters or emails?"

"All of them. I'll print those out and bring them in tonight too."

"That would be great." Stiles said. "We'll let you go for right now and call your daughter, but if you can think of anything else that might help, call us or stop by the station anytime, alright?"

"I will." She said standing up, tossing her tissue in the waste bin before grabbing a new one and moving towards the doors. "Just find whoever did this."

"I promise you, Renee, we will find who did this." Lydia said softly, placing a hand on the grieving woman's shoulder. In response, the blond reached up to touch the acting coroners hand.

"Thank you." She whispered to Lydia.

The redhead nodded sympathetically. "I know what its like to lose someone close to you like that. It's never easy, especially under these circumstances."

"Who did you lose?" She asked, "If you don't mind me asking."

"My best friend." The younger girl answered without hesitation, a sad smile on her face. "She was more like my sister though."

Stiles looked down at hearing her words, knowing full well who she meant. He could never forget his best friends first love, or the way that she died. She had been trying to save them that night, she left them as the brave warrior she had always been.

"What was her name?" Renee asked through tears.

"Allison. Her name was Allison."

"You still miss her?" She asked the redhead.

"Every day."

Renee's blue bloodshot eyes met Lydia's sad green eyes in a moment of understanding. They both knew the pain of loss. "Does it ever stop hurting, Dr. Martin."

"Honestly?" She asked, "No. It always hurts, knowing that you'll never seen their face again, or hear their voice or laugh. And you always miss them, wish you could call them when something happens that you want to share with them. But it does get easier, and the pain just takes time."

Renee nodded as a tear rolled down her pink, puffy cheek; Lydia herself now held tears in her eyes.

"I don't think anybody who knew her could ever forget Allison." Stiles added putting a hand on his friends shoulder, his own eyes held sadness as well. "And I'm sure that your husband will stay alive in the memories of those who knew him for years too."

"Thank you." Renee repeated, "Both of you."

Lydia couldn't help it anymore. She let her caring side take control for a moment as she reached out to hug the grieving woman.

"Go home." She said letting go of the widow, "Be with your daughter, and help each other get through this okay?"

The widow nodded gratefully as the deputy escorted her outside and drove her home.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked looking at his friend once they were alone.

"Yea, I'll be alright." Lydia said wiping away the few tears from her eyes, careful not to mess up her eye makeup. "You okay?"

"I'm good." He said removing his hand from her shoulder and heading outside, Lydia following. Once again he opened her door for her before heading to his side of the car and getting in.

"I still owe you breakfast don't I?" He asked her as he started the car.

"Yes, I believe you do." she confirmed.

...

They had chosen to go back to the same small family diner as the previous day. The waitress, a young woman by the name of Maggie and the owner's granddaughter, took their order before disappearing into the kitchen. The two sat silently in the booth for a while, still recovering from the morning conversations. Finally, Stiles broke the silence. Lydia wished that he hadn't.

"That's why you left, isn't it?" He asked, "Why you stayed away from everybody for so many years?"

"What do you mean?" She asked cautiously.

"Because of Allison." He said. "Because you lost her and staying hurt too much?"

"No, Stiles, that's not why." the redhead answered with a heavy sigh. "I mean, it was because of Allison, but that's not why."

"Then what, Lyds?" He asked, genuinely wanting to know.

"Because I was scared, okay?" She was whispering, but you could still here the pain and intensity in her words. "I was scared of losing someone else. First Allison, then Aiden. I couldn't stand losing anyone else I cared about. I thought that maybe if I kept my distance from everyone, then it wouldn't be so painful if I lost any of you. I couldn't handle that pain again."

"Lyds." He breathed reaching across the table to take her hand, letting her know that he understood. That he was scared too, and he fully understood why she ran. He hoped she would know what his gesture meant.

He had that sad look in his eyes again. She hated that look. It broke her heart every time. Just like when she wanted to rush out and find Jackson back in high school, he'd had that same look in his eyes back then when he'd stopped her from going alone.

 _"How much do you know about this stuff?" He asked her._

 _"Pieces." she answered. "Half of it's like a dream."_

 _"Yeah, well, guess what?" he responded in his usual sarcasm. It was different that time though, there was a hint of bitterness in it, as if his sarcastic humor was being used as a way to cover up his own fears and anger. "The other half is like a freaking nightmare."_

 _"I don't care." she snapped back stubbornly, "I can help him."_

 _"See, that's the problem." he said, finally letting lose some of his pent up emotions. "_ _You—you_ _don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my freakin' mind. You see, death doesn't happen to you, Lydia. It happens to everyone around you, okay?" To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it? Huh?"_

 _"And look at my face, huh?" He paused and pointed a finger at his busted up face. "Come on, you actually think this was meant to hurt me?"_

She would never forget that night. It was the first time she saw how much he really cared about her. And now he had the same look in his eyes as he had that night. At the time she thought it was bitterness or anger, but now she was beginning to wonder if maybe it wasn't bitterness or anger at all. Maybe he had felt fear too, even then. It made sense that he felt the same fear that she now felt; he had been involved in this world longer than she had been, had seen more than she had. He's probably lost more too. Maybe he knew exactly how she felt. But he stayed to fight so nobody else would have to experience the loss and fear they did, and she left. That was the difference.

Not knowing what to say, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know that she understood. He returned the gesture giving her a sad smile, a smile that she also returned.

"Its okay Lyds." he told her.

"I should have stayed." she whispered.

She knew what he meant now, all those years ago when he told her how her death wouldn't hurt her—how it would hurt everyone else left standing at her funeral.

 _"Death doesn't happen to you, Lydia. It happens to everyone around you, okay?" To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it?"_

His words echoed around in her mind. That was exactly how she had felt at Allison's funeral. How was she going to live the rest of her life without her sister? Knowing that she'd never be able to talk to her again still broke her inside.

"Nobody can blame you for leaving Lyds. Trust me, it kills me too."

"I miss her Stiles. So much." She whispered.

"So do I Lydia." he agreed as Maggie returned with their breakfast. "We all do."


	13. Authors Notes, Prompt Ideas (Chapter 13)

**Okay, so I saw this prompt post going around on Tumblr and it looked kinda fun. So I thought I might give it a try. I'd love to write some One-shot drabble prompts for you guys, so feel free to take a look and pm me what you want. All of my fandoms are listed on my profile, but if you want something that's not listed then feel free to ask. If I've seen or read it I can still do one for you if you'd like. Thank you so much for all of the Faves, Follows, and Reviews. I love you guys so much.**

 _ **"send me a pairing and a number and i'll write you a drabble"**_

" _Come over here and make me."_

" _Have you lost your damn mind!?"_

" _Please, don't leave."_

" _Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?"_

" _Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"_

" _Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"_

" _I almost lost you."_

" _Wanna bet?"_

" _Don't you ever do that again!"_

" _Teach me how to play?"_

" _Don't you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!"_

" _I think we need to talk."_

" _Kiss me."_

" _Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."_

" _So, I found this waterfall…"_

" _It could be worse."_

" _Looks like we'll be trapped for a while…"_

" _This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."_

" _The paint's supposed to go where?"_

" _You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."_

" _We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"_

" _I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."_

" _Just once."_

" _You're the only one I trust to do this."_

" _I can't believe you talked me into this."_

" _I got you a present."_

" _I'm pregnant."_

" _Marry me?"_

" _I thought you were dead."_

" _It's not what it looks like…"_

" _You lied to me."_

" _I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."_

" _Please don't do this."_

" _If you keep looking at me like that we won't make it to a bed."_

" _You heard me. Take. It. Off."_

" _I wish I could hate you."_

" _Wanna dance?"_

" _You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."_

" _Hey! I was gonna eat that!"_

" _Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"_

" _You did all of this for me?"_

" _I swear it was an accident."_

" _YOU DID WHAT?!"_

" _If you die, I'm gonna kill you."_

" _Tell me a secret."_

" _Hey, have you seen the..? Oh."_

" _No one needs to know."_

" _Boo."_

" _Well this is awkward…"_

 _Writer's preference_

 **I promise I will keep working on Remnants of the Past, but I've currently hit a bit of a writers block and need to take a little break from the fic. But I promise, there will be more chapters soon! :)**


	14. Interrogations

**A/N: Hey guys! A couple of these really fast. First off, I had a guest review my last chapter saying the following:**

 **"** **I'm sad you're abandoning this story. I really liked where it was going!"**

 **~I just wanted to let that guest, and anybody else who may have misinterpreted the a/n in my last chapter that I am NOT abandoning this story. My updates might be a bit slower because of the writers block I seem to have found myself in at this point in the story, but I plan to continue to write it regardless. See, the problem is that I know exactly how I want this fic to end, I'm just struggling a bit with filling in some of the middle. But hang tight, I promise you, it is not a dead fic. (If you are the guest who wrote this review please let me know you saw this, cause I feel really bad you thought that I abandond this story.)**

 **~Next, I wanna ask you guys to take a look at my last chapter** _ **"Authors Notes, Prompt Ideas (Chapter 13)"**_ **please. While I may be planning to keep this story going, I'd love to work on something else for a bit too. I'm hoping that working with other characters as well as prompts it might help me with my writers block too. I think that I've been spending so much time with these characters that I've just kinda forgot how I want to use them right now.**

 **So PLEASE help me out guys. Just pick any characters from what ever fandom you want (my fandoms are listed in my bio, and if you don't see yours in there ask me anyway because if I'm familiar with it I'll still try and do one for you), pick any of the prompts listed in my last chapter, and then send what you guys want in a PM. I would LOVE to write you guys a story that you helped me design. :)**

 **And last but not least, R &R please!? :) Also, if you actually read all of this, you are amazing. I love all of you lovely readers so much! Thank you for your support! 3**

...

True to her word Renee had dropped off all of the email print outs that afternoon. Stiles, Lydia, and Larson had spent the next three and a half hours going over each threat taking careful note of every detail. Once that was done with, Stiles called in to pull the Anderson family's phone records to see if there was any correlation between the calls and the emails. There were three that correlated in the end so Larson took another officer with him to follow up on one of the leads—a woman by the name of Mary Clarks whom Carter had represented about two years back—while Stiles and Lydia went to meet with a man who had lost his case against his now ex-wife six months ago named Norbert Longman. The third was the man the widow had mentioned, Steven Bucksmith. It was decided that they would meet with him last so that Stiles, Lydia, and Larson could all be present.

…...

"Ms. Clarks," the female officer accompanying Larson began, "Could you tell us about the child endangerment case that you were involved in two years ago?"

"I lost my case, my job, and most importantly my daughter. My lawyer failed me. There isn't much to tell, Officer Morrow." Mary's tone filled with anger as she spoke.

The officers sat on the woman's front porch, Larson leaning against the rail while Morrow had elected to take a seat in one of the two rocking chairs. The suspect in question sat perched upon the porch swing.

"Of course ma'am." Deputy Larson said in his southern drawl. "We're terribly sorry for your circumstances. Just awful." He found that by playing friendly he could sometimes coax the suspect into being more forthcoming with information.

"I'll bet it infuriated you that you had your daughter ripped away from you. She went to live with a foster family in Detroit, Michigan correct? You haven't seen her since that day in court?" Morrow responded. She was often the one to play ''bad-cop'' in these situations. Morrow always asked the hard questions to keep the suspect on their toes.

"That is correct." Mary responded tightly, giving a glare in the direction of the female cop that sent genuine shivers down her spine before she looked back to Larson. "What is this even about anyway?" She snapped.

"Carter Anderson is dead. Murdered, actually." Morrow said with just as much venom in her voice as Mary had just used toward her.

"And you think that I killed him?" The woman asked incredulously.

"Didn't you?" Morrow asked, keeping up the bad cop appearance. "We know that you threatened him after you lost your daughter. What was her name again? Sarah?"

"No!" Mary shouted standing from the swing.

"I'm terribly sorry ma'am, we don't mean to upset you." Larson said interjecting, placing a calming hand on the woman's shoulder. "We just need to follow up with everyone who made threats toward him. We need to look at all possibilities. You understand?"

Heaving a heavy breath the now infuriated woman found her perch on the swing once more and tried to answer in a calmer tone of voice. "No." She managed again. "No, I did not kill him. I hate him, and you wont see me cry over his passing, but I didn't kill Anderson."

Her voice was still full of tension, as if she might explode again at any moment, so Larson tried for a brief subject change in order to calm her before continuing the interrogation. "Tell me about your daughter, Sarah? How old is she?"

"She would be 10 now. My beautiful little girl." The woman said wistfully, her voice immediately becoming softer.

Officer Morrow stood and walked to the far side of the porch to allow for them to have a privet moment, in order to reinforce the good-cop-bad-cop bit that the pair and started up, with out even planning it.

"What kind of things does she like?" Larson continued, careful not to use past tense in regards to Sarah. He didn't want to remind her that her daughter was elsewhere and have the woman clam up.

"Sarah loves Ballet. She likes reading too. She was always pretending to be a princess like the ones in her books, she even had a tutu from her dance classes that she would wear. She always said that it was her gown for the prince's ball." Mary smiled fondly and the memory and Larson allowed for a smile as well.

"Well, it sounds like you love her an awful lot Ms. Clarks." He stated.

"I love her very much Deputy Larson." She responded, "Would you like to see her picture?"

"I would like that very much ma'am." Larson said with a smile.

"I'll be right back then." She said disappearing into the house as Morrow rejoined him once again and took her place in the rocking chair.

"Nice job defusing the tension, Larson."

"Nice job playing bad-cop and issuing the tension, Morrow." He teased.

A moment later Mary Clarks re-emerged from her home with a framed photo which she handed to the deputy. "That's my Sarah girl." She told him proudly.

"She's certainly beautiful Ms. Clarks." He said passing the image to Morrow.

"You have a lovely daughter." The female agreed. As a mother of two, she found herself unable to keep up the hardball front when discussing the child in this manner.

As the photo was passed back to the mother Larson asked one final question. "Is there anything you might be able to tells us that could help Ms. Clarks?"

"No, Deputy Larson. I'm sorry I can't be of any more help."

"That's quite alright miss." He told her, handing her a card with his extension number on it, "Just give us a call if you think of anything?"

"I will Deputy." She said kindly to him, glaring daggers in Morrow's back the entire time as the pair walked back to the squad car.

...

"Norbert Longman, you lost a case about six months ago when you and your wife were going through a divorce correct?" Stiles asked the elder gentlemen sitting in front of him. Norbert wasn't old exactly, he looked as though he was in his late forties or early fifties, but compared to the sheriff he was elder.

"That is correct Sheriff." The man replied.

"And your ex-wife's lawyer was a gentleman by the name of Carter Anderson right?" Lydia asked him as a follow up.

"Yes." Norbert confirmed again.

"Did you send him death threats after you lost your case?" The sheriff continued.

The man sighed. "I'm not proud of it, but yes, I did send a few of 'em. Can I ask what this is about?"

"Carter Anderson was found dead." The redhead informed him as she pulled her turquoise cardigan tighter around herself. It was a chilly day outside and for whatever reason, this man seemed to have the air conditioner in his house turned on. "Murdered, to be specific."

"Oh my God." The man muttered in disbelief. After a pause he seemed to realize why he was being questioned. "You think that I could have killed him?"

"Mr. Anderson received several death threats Mr. Longman. We're just interviewing the people involved in some of the more concerning threats sir. We have to consider all of out options at this point." Stiles informed him.

"Can you tell us what happened with your case Mr. Longman? What was it about exactly?" Lydia picked up, continuing the interview.

"We were trying to decide who got what in the divorce." Norman explained, "You know, who got the house, who got the car. That sort of thing. And she won everything, I was living on the streets for about a month after the divorce. And I'll admit, I was pretty pissed at first. But I didn't kill him."

"You send him several death threats Mr. Longman. Most of them consist of you saying things such as, _"I will smother you in your sleep"_ and _"I'd like to see the blood run down your throat as you die slowly and painfully.'"_ the sheriff read. "Did you ever intend to act on these actions?"

"I would never." Norman said. "Look, I was mad in the beginning. I turned to drinking for awhile after the divorce—that was when I made those threats, when I was drunk. I've gotten help since then and I'm sober now. I'm not proud of doing those things. I lost my case, I've made my peace with that. I didn't kill him."

"Okay, well thank you very much for your time sir." Lydia said standing, she could feel her fingers becoming more ice-like as she sat in his cold house.

"We'll be in touch Mr. Longman." Stiles said as he too stood up, Norbert following there lead.

"Absolutely. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful." Norbert said walking the pair to the door and shaking each of their hands.

"Call us if you think of anything that might help." The sheriff said shaking his hand and offering a card that had the station number and his extension on it.

"Pleasure to meet you sir." The ginger haired girl told him as she returned the gesture before following Stiles back outside to the car.

"God, my hands are freezing. Why was his house so damn cold?" Lydia complained as they drove down the street.

Stiles laughed and nodded in agreement as he flipped the heat on low in the cruiser.

…...

Steven Bucksmith lived in a lake house not unlike the one Lydia now resided in, only his was a bit smaller. His house was more of a log cabin style too, where as Lydia's was built more like a stone cottage. As Lydia walked up the front stairs, she found herself having to admit that it was a lovely home. Officer Morrow had driven Deputy Larson over to the lake house so that nobody would be forced to take the back seat of the cruiser, and had elected to stay to provide backup if it became necessary. As they reached the front porch Stiles reached out to knock on the heavy wooden door and a moment later it was swung open to reveal a tall dark haired man in his mid to late thirties.

"Steven Bucksmith?" Larson asked him. The man nodded.

"Can I help you?" He asked skeptically with a heavy dark brow raised.

Stiles held up his badge for the man to see and introduced himself. "Yea. I'm Sheriff Stilinski. This is Deputy Larson," he pause gesturing to the man in question before placing his right hand on Lydia's shoulder and continuing. "And this is Dr. Martin. We were wondering if we might borrow a few minutes of your time to ask you a few questions?"

The grumpy looking man nodded tersely and stepped aside so that the three could enter the home. Upon entering he shut the heavy wooden door behind them and led them to the living room before gesturing for them to take a seat on the black leather sofa. They all obliged and Steven found a seat of his own in the matching chair to their immediate right.

"So, what sort of questions are you going to be asking me?" The taller man began.

"Can you tell us about what happened between you and a lawyer by the name of Carter Anderson?" Lydia asked jumping right to the chase.

The mans face instantly reddened in anger, his jaw clenching before he spoke. "He's the reason I was shorted $40,000 in my law suit case." He answered tightly.

"Yes, of course." Larson picked up, "But would you mind telling us a little bit about the case? Like, uh, what was the suit over, for example?"

"I was fired from my job with out any probable cause!" The man half yelled. "I kept asking them why I was let go but they never told me. Then one of my friends who still worked at the office told me that the day after I left they'd already found a replacement for me. Some woman. My friend told me the boss never stopped flirting with her. I lost my job so that he could get a booty-call at work!"

"So you tried to sue your employer for discrimination then?" Stiles guessed.

"Of course I did! Why wouldn't I?" He said defensively.

"And Carter Anderson was your employers lawyer, right?" The sheriff continued.

"Yea, and the bastard shorted me the compensation that I rightfully deserved! I was a damn good employee! And he fired me because I didn't have breast or a—"

"Okay," Lydia laughed, "I think we get the point of where that was going. Next question. After you lost your case, you sent threats to Mr. Anderson and even went so far as to stalk his daughter correct?"

"Hey, I've obeyed the terms of my restraining order so if that bastard is trying to press charges on me then I—" and once again Steven Bucksmith was cut off.

"Mr. Bucksmith nobody in the Anderson family is pressing charges." Larson informed him. "We're here because some joggers found Mr. Anderson's body in the woods a few days ago. He was murdered."

That information cause the man before them to release a bark of laughter, not that his amusement surprised any of them at this point in the conversation. "I always knew someone would kill him someday!" He announced joyfully. Actually, this was the happiest the three had seen him since arriving at his home.

Finally the odd man before them sobered up and regained his previous grumpy state. "You won't see me shed a damn tear over his death, I'm glad he's dead. But I'm not the one who pulled the trigger, so to speak. Not that I wouldn't love to be the one to kill him, but I'm not your guy."

"Well, we're sorry to have disturbed you sir." Larson spoke, even he was finding it difficult to remain polite in Steven's presence. "If you can think of any information, please give us a call. And stay in town, we may need to contact you again."

After handing him the same card they had given the other two people they'd interviewed that day they showed themselves out the door and walked wordlessly back to their cars.

Upon shutting the door on the passenger side of the cruiser, Larson looked to his driver and friend and sighed. "That might have been the most disturbed man I've ever met in my life." He told her as she started the car.

...

 **A/N: Hey guys! I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter! It was actually a lot of fun to create and write for all of the different suspects. So just to some up my previous a/n in the beginning:**

 **A) I will NOT be abandoning this story. (Yay!)**

 **B) Please help me out and give me some characters and a prompt to write for? (Thank you!)**

 **C) R &R if you read and liked this chapter! (Seriously, your reviews inspire me to write faster.)**

 **Thanks again for reading guys! I love you lovely people so much! Mwah! 3**


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